The Fall of Marigill (closed for Poprockz)

[Poprockz]

"Thank you," she couldn't help but feel self-conscious of her own hand in his. Hopefully her hand wasn't sweating or anything, nervous as she was. "You too."

Nettie's eyes widened and she panicked at that, doubling back to try to save herself. "Not that you're wearing a dress, and I don't think you're pretty! Not that you aren't good-looking, but more in a man-way. I... I'm sorry, I'm babbling." She looked down at her hand in his, feeling the heat that had come to her cheeks.

"That's alright," Dremara shrugged in a good-natured way, her golden eyes soft as she looked upon him. "My life isn't turning out the way I envisioned, but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. I have experienced many interesting and wondrous things because of you. A delay to the festivities is no matter as long as the great evil is taken care of."

 

[draco519]

Orson listened to Dremara, her life had indeed taken many twists and turns. He was almost sorry for getting her mixed up in the mess that had been his life. His losses were piled high, overshadowing his victories like the Whitecaps over the Baleful Lake. The Kota had lost so much more than she could ever know. More than he even knew how to express. Or have words for.

But now was not the time. “I will return.” He bowed his head, deeply, to Dremara. “Thank you.”

Cillian hesitated only a step, waiting on Orson to pass him before he bowed his way out of the room before turning to follow him. Today, they faced Kauvric. An evil that not even Dagenheart could put down.

All the same.. He looked down at the black raven sewn into the red handkerchief.. And tucked it into his breast pocket.

Orson, meanwhile, wore a determined face. The act of courage was far from not being afraid; it was acting in spite of it.

“If the opportunity comes, Cillian.. When the battle is lost.” He looked over to Cillian. “I want you to get out of that cavern. Leave us behind.”

Cillian only smirked. “Brannock would haunt me.”

Orson grinned, a hand going to Cillian’s shoulder to smack him.

 

[Poprockz]

Dremara nodded back, "be safe." She truly meant it. If she had more time, she might have given him a token of her own, though she supposed that her light was a token in and of itself.

Before Orson left, he would find Y'Sennia's shadow approaching. It produced a vial and a cord, affixing it to his belt before dissipating. It was her blood, the dark red liquid protected by magic that prevented the vial from being harmed by any normal means. Upon the vial was the inscription: "Drink and call for me when it is time."

Once the men had left, Y'Sennia took Dremara back to her chambers to remove the darkness again, though this time they didn't engage in the same acts as they had before. This time it was strictly a massage, and then Y'Sennia sucked out the darkness by sharing a long, gentle kiss between the two of them. Soon the darkness within her had been consumed, and she felt much lighter.

Though her heart was still heavy, as was the heart of Nettie and even Y'Sennia. None of them wanted to find that one of the men had been seriously injured or killed. The Queen spent her time praying while they were away, hoping that somehow by remaining strong in her conviction to protect them that the light itself would remain strong. Meanwhile, Y'Sennia paced restlessly, occasionally going to see to something that needed her attention in the castle.

Nettie watched out one of the castle's windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of them on their way back. Occasionally a thrall would bring her tea or snacks, and she would sip while absentmindedly staring into the distance.

 

[draco519]

The Iron Vale, even during the day, was a piercing frost, sunlight sifting and dancing along the surface of the blackened Baleful Lake, where maple, cedar, evergreen, pine, and ashwood trees stood as silent sentinels, their snow-dusted branches quivering under a light snowfall.

Near the Baleful Lake, a cursed mere of black ice gleaming in the mountains’ shadow, a cavern yawned, its frost-rimed entrance exhaling a sinister chill. Orson led Cillian, Brannock, Fionn, Dagris, and Roric into its depths, their breath clouding, torches casting flickering light on walls etched with bear-claw runes, relics of Dagenheart’s era.

Dremara, queen of RimeHaven, had blessed them before their quest, her sacred rites infusing their weapons and Raicho-gifted items with holy golden light, a radiant bulwark against the dark magic of Naymeera, mother of beasts.

Orson gripped his rune-etched longsword, bear sigils blazing with Dremara’s golden light, the Stormweave Band on his wrist humming faintly, its thunderbolt sigil a memento of journeys past, its spent energy a quiet reminder of battles won, blue eyes resolute. “We’re not far now.”

Brannock, hefted his two-handed axe, gauntlet shimmering gold, braided beard flecked with snow, his heart fierce.

Cillian notched an arrow, amulet crackling with holy radiance, gray eyes sharp in the gloom.

Fionn, eager to not be afraid, clutched his leaf-shaped spear, ring pulsing gold, torc gleaming, zeal burning bright.

Dagris cradled his crystal orb, stag-carved staff glowing, runes alight with Dremara’s blessing, his seer’s gaze piercing the cavern’s malice.

Roric held his wolf-pommel longsword, pendant radiating light, kite shield raised, silver-streaked hair catching torchlight, steadfast.

The cavern deepened, stalactites dripping, the air thick with a pulsing hum, growing malevolent as they neared a vast chamber. Dagris’s orb flickered, his voice low.

“Kauvric, Thrymgor’s first, felled here in Dagenheart’s time. Naymeera’s corruption stirs him.”

Fionn’s spear twitched, ring glowing, “We’ll carve our own saga!”

Cillian’s amulet sparked, a silent warning.

They entered the chamber, torchlight revealing Kauvric—a towering figure, fifteen feet tall, encased in melting ice, his frost-forged armor black as the Glacial Maw, runes smoking with Naymeera’s dark energy. His balefire eyes, green flames of corruption, burned through the ice, a warhammer gripped in thawing hands. The ice cracked, water pooling and flowing, blackening the stream that fed the Baleful Lake. Naymeera’s energy was surging, a growl shaking the cavern.

“Glacivyr treachery,” Orson growled, Stormweave Band humming faintly, its golden glow from Dremara’s blessing steadying his grip. “Ursui, steel us.”

The ice shattered, shards exploding, a blizzard erupting as Kauvric roared, balefire eyes flaring, dark energy coiling like smoke.

Glacivyr Icejarls—four, with crystalline horns and runic armor—burst from side tunnels, frost spikes forming, their runes pulsing with Naymeera’s taint.

Kauvric’s warhammer swung, frost bursting, dark tendrils lashing from his runes, clashing with Dremara’s holy light.

Orson’s longsword, golden sigils blazing, parried a frost spike, his blade slashing an Icejarl’s arm, holy light searing ichor. “Spread out!” he roared, dodging Kauvric’s hammer, its impact splintering stone and cracking ice, tendrils repelled by Dremara’s blessing.

Brannock’s axe and gauntlet flaring gold, cleaved an Icejarl’s shoulder, holy fire erupting, bellowing, “Now this is a fight!”

Cillian’s arrows, amulet radiating, pierced an Icejarl’s throat, golden light dissolving Naymeera’s miasma, blizzard faltering.

Fionn’s spear, ring glowing, stabbed an Icejarl’s side, holy light flaring, his war-cry echoing Dagenheart’s, “Ursui’s might!”

Dagris’s orb pulsed, staff summoning a bear-shaped flame, golden and radiant, hurling an Icejarl back, chanting Ursui’s runes to counter Kauvric’s dark magic.

Roric’s longsword slashed an Icejarl’s leg, shield deflecting a frost spike, the light of their golden Queen chasing away the shadows that burst from them, “Fight them back! Be mindful of Kauvric’s range with that hammer!”

Kauvric’s balefire eyes blazed, dark energy summoning spectral blades from the miasma, slashing at Orson, who rolled, longsword striking Kauvric’s rune-etched greave, golden light cracking a rune, smoke hissing.

Dagris’s orb flared, “Naymeera’s corruption drives him! Shatter the runes!”

Cillian’s arrow, amulet glowing, hit a rune on Kauvric’s chest, dark energy dimming, weakening the blizzard in the cavern.

Brannock’s axe smashed another rune, holy fire spreading to send Kauvric staggering.

Fionn’s spear struck a third rune, shouting, “I got one!”

Roric’s shield came up and smashed through the guard of an icejarl’s balance, his sword coming up across its throat to spill the black ichor.

The final Icejarl lunged at Dagris, frost spikes flying, but Orson’s longsword, radiant with Dremara’s light, severed its arm, finishing it with a thrust.

Kauvric’s hammer swept, dark tendrils coiling, but Dagris’s orb and staff united, unleashing Ursui’s wrath—a golden bear claw shattering Kauvric’s last rune, Naymeera’s energy collapsing.

Kauvric roared, balefire eyes enraged at this blasphemy. “You wear the furs of the Kota Chieftain. Dagenheart will watch as RimeHaven freezes; as I and my brothers rape your women! As we destroy all you hold dear!” His voice was a roar against the whipping blizzard that threatened to take the soul from a man.

Kauvric brought the warhammer around, slamming it down where Orson had been standing.

Orson dove to the right, narrowly avoiding it as the splinters of stone and ice cut his arm. He countered with a strike that sent sparks along the bracers of the ancient IceJarl.

Kauvric brought the warhammer back, but his arm was caught, suddenly as Brannock lodged his axe in his elbow. Giving it a good pull to get the Glacivyr legend off balance for his strike.

Fionn, meanwhile, hurled a javelin, catching Kauvric in the back of the knee.

Dagris was chanting the prayer of protection; the fighting had cracked the cavern’s walls, shaking the ice and unsettling it. It would come down if he wasn’t fast to act. Runes along the cracks in the ice walls; stitching them together, glowing blue with the runecaster’s power and unshakable faith.

Roric brought his sword down, cutting through the leg of the final IceJarl, his shield bashing the jaw upward, then ran his sword through its throat. He finally had it to where it was only Kauvric left.

Or so Roric believed, the roar behind him startled him. And he could only watch-

As an arrow went into a balefire eye. Amber tipped, glowing with the Queen’s radiant blessing, and causing the foe to fall against the wall, slumping down next to a rune stitched crack.

Roric looked up to where Cillian had found himself a perch on the wall, another arrow flying, and nodded to the man… then looked across the expanse of the Cavern, to the fight between Orson and Kauvric.

Kauvric, off balance and staggering, pulled back against Brannock. Hard enough to fling the man along the floor and against the wall. He reached for the javelin in his knee, and Orson capitalized, his sword taking the finger off. Causing Kauvric to cry out in frustration, the hammer coming again.

And faster than Orson expected. He only just managed to get his shield up and he was knocked sideways. The impact sent him careening across the floor.. And he blinked as his ears rang.

“Orson!” Fionn rushed forwards, only for Kauvric to bring his fist down, sending the young redhead flying.

Roric was next to stand between Orson and Kauvric, his kite shield came up, shimmering as Roric focused all he had, and a protective dome appeared over them. The warhammer cracking it on the first swing, worse on the second. And the third.

Kauvric roared, an arrow sticking out of his eye now… and he was quick to find Cillian as the balefire colored fluid leaked down his cheek.

“...shit.” Cillian dove off of his perch, the thrown warhammer of Kauvric decimating the wall behind him before it whipped back at Kauvric recalling it, then he stopped in his tracks, backstepping as the next throw continued damaging the ice.

Dagris had a bead of sweat rolling down his face, runes popping up everywhere to keep the cavern from collapsing. If they could get out? They could allow it to fall on Kauvric… but who’s to say even that would kill him?

“Get up, Orson!” Roric shook the Chieftain again.

Cillian fired another arrow, though without the element of surprise? Kauvric brought his hand up to stop it and didn’t seem at all bothered by it. If anything? He was only more pissed off. The hammer came up again, this time? Cillian dove between Kauvric’s legs, his shortsword coming out to cut at the thigh on his way through, then he sheathed it and jumped, spinning in midair to nock an arrow, aim it, and fired into Kauvric’s back before the hammer whizzed past him; had he been an inch slower? That would’ve turned him into a fine paste on the wall.

But Cillian’s eyes widened as his foot slipped, and he staggered to the side, quick to recover, but that hammer was coming-

 

[draco519]

Orson went flying over his head, and Cillian only watched as his Chieftain let out a warcry.

Glowing sword in hand, Orson’s sword radiated with the power of his Queen. His stormweave band feeding it as the blade grew, and grew some more, and more. Pure light. He brought it across Kauvric’s neck in one clean slash. Kicking off of Kauvric’s chest, Orson landed on his feet and then got out of the way, helping Cillian up as the behemoth finally fell forward; while the head fell backward.

The brothers stood breathless, the cavern quieting, snow drifting through a cracked ceiling.

“Took you long enough.” Cillian got his breath, looking over to where Fionn was helping Brannock up, Roric and Dagris coming to join them.

Orson sheathed his longsword, watching Kauvric’s blood fade from black to red. Naymeera’s corruption fading from the area with his life force no longer powering it.

Dagris’s orb dimmed, voice grave, “Naymeera’s power continues to grow.”

Fionn grinned, a tale of a true battle! He couldn’t help but be excited! “We’re Dagenheart’s heirs!”

Roric smacked Fionn. “You did well, boy. We live.” He looked among them, checking for injuries.

Brannock thumped his axe, nodding approvingly. “Seems you took the Oath seriously enough.”

They left the cavern, the Baleful Lake shimmering under the Whitecaps, the White Peaks palace glinting, where they could rest and recover from a hard fought battle.

“Orson.” Dagris saw it. “Your arm..”

Orson’s arm was very broken. A mangled thing, twisted in places into the straps of his shield. He hadn’t been able to dodge that strike from Kauvric, and it had cost him dearly.

“Considering what we just faced, brothers?” Orson said, the adrenaline still carrying his feet forward as they walked towards the path around the Baleful Lake that would see them to rest, “I was the lucky one.”

The cavern shook behind them as it collapsed, Dagris unable to concentrate on the runes any longer, and he leaned on Fionn’s shoulder, quite overexerted himself. He’d be unable to look at Orson’s arm.

Brannock and Fionn? Their whole sides would be covered in nasty bruises, but nothing as severe as Orson.

Cillian? He’d managed to not take much damage, same as Roric. They exchanged glances.. But they had to keep moving. Stopping in the Iron Vale’s cold while wounded? It was a death sentence.

 

[Poprockz]

"They're back!!" Nettie flew through the door, panting as she looked at Dremara in excitement.

Dremara practically jumped to her feet, an inquiring look in her eye. She was almost afraid to ask what was on her mind. Perhaps she ought to-

"They're all alive!" her handmaiden had discerned what she had wanted to ask, as it was that fact that her herself feeling so joyful. "Come! They're nearing the gate! They will be here soon!"

The two women flew down the corridors, getting lost once or twice but eventually found the drawbridge where the thralls and Y'Sennia herself were gathered. The drawbridge was lowered, and soon the party was within sight.

"Thank the Gods," the Queen breathed, gratitude burning in her chest at this blessing. To have all six of the men come back alive... it was practically a miracle! It wouldn't have surprised anyone if several of them were to be taken down by the giant, but against all odds they had persisted and emerged together.

When the men finally reached close enough, Dremara, Nettie, and Y'Sennia rushed out to greet them. In her exuberance, Dremara hugged Orson tightly, not having noticed that his arm was injured. Meanwhile Nettie beamed at them, trying not to let her gaze linger on Cillian too often. Y'Sennia had a proud look on her face, as though she knew that they would be victorious. Of course they would- Kauvric hadn't known who exactly he was dealing with.

 

[draco519]

Orson smiled as Dremara came rushing out as the gates opened; the Balefire, and likely Senni’s mirror, was cleansed with Naymeera’s presence being chased out of the land. The men were battered and beaten, but Orson? When Dremara’s arms went around him? He bit his tongue not to cry out. His free arm wrapping around her; Dagris had fashioned a sling for his broken arm. It was hidden beneath his cloak, it wasn’t Dremara’s fault.

Though he was also covered in blood. He was surprised Dremara wanted to touch him at all. “My wife.” He said so reverently. “My arm..” He finally moved to show her his arm in the sling. And his eyes were nearly misted with tears from the sudden pain and pressure, his cheeks a bit bale. But he’d managed the hug. “This is the first of many victories I bring to you.”

Brannock looked over to Fionn, a hand clapping down on the shoulder he knew Fionn had bruised. “Young Fionn did so well!”

“Ah!” Fionn grimaced, shoving Brannock’s hand away. “You boy-diddler!”

Brannock grinned at the boy, reaching up to tousle his hair.

Dagris was leaning on Roric, his face drawn from holding the cavern up. He’d expended much energy. He would need to rest.

Cillian eyed Nettie, but he didn’t say anything here. This victory belonged to Orson. The man had saved his life.

Roric spoke up, finally. “It was only with your light, My Queen, that we were victorious.”

In unison, Orson’s men behind him knelt before the Queen of the Iron Vale.

 

[Poprockz]

"Gods!" Dremara gasped, horrified. How painful that hug must have been?! She should have been more considerate, should have checked before simply throwing her arms around a man who had come back from a perilous battle The woman quickly pulled away from her for fear of hurting him further. It was at that point that she noticed that he had blood all over him, and now she was covered in blood. She had to resist the urge to cringe at the damp feeling of it on her clothes.

She looked around at the kneeling men, most of them battered and bruised, exhausted. First things first... a reward for coming back alive and winning the battle.

The Queen closed her eyes, now having more of an idea of how to tap into her power. She imagined her power reaching out, touching the injuries and infusing them with light and life. Her desire was to mend, to heal these warriors who stood for the good of all. She glowed, her tendrils of light seeking any and all cuts, scrapes, bruises, or more serious injuries. Each would they touched was willed to heal within moments, leaving each of them as they were before they had left the castle.

When she was done, she sighed. "I'm sorry... I should have known better. You all have been through a lot, and I would have liked to heal you first before giving you any more pain."

 

[draco519]

Orson closed his eyes as the light washed over him. The feeling of bones shifting in his arm and saving him from likely being a one armed Chieftain was a relief. He reached up, pulling the sling off and rolled his shoulder a few times. “It’s all right, my Queen. I’d hold you with broken arms if that’s what it took to do so.” He smiled, genuinely, at her.

The men each breathed deep sighs of relief. The worst of the bruising going away. But baths, food, and sleep would be necessary.

Cillian was the least hurt out of all of them. And Kauvric had come for him directly. He was grateful to not be harmed. That black ooze had been all over that cave. Whatever that blight was? It would’ve destroyed them all.

With this power, Orson looked down at his arm still shimmering.. They could take the Lands Beyond. He could lead the Kota to places few returned from. His eyes moved to Dagris.

And the knowing look on his face. The foretold times of prophecy; where legends are born. And his name could be emblazoned on the Iron Vale for all time.

Orson brought his gaze back down to Dremara. “You are well?” He asked, concern creasing his features. He knew the shadows took Dremara whenever she used such gifts. He knew not her limits; he doubted she did, too.

 

[Poprockz]

"I am cold, but I'm sure Y'Sennia will take away the shadows as she did earlier. As long as they are purged, I suffer no ill-effects other than some fatigue." She smiled, the coldness not as chilling as it was earlier. Hopefully as she used her power more, the impact of using it would be less and less.

It was at that point that Y'Sennia came forward and held her arms out. "You all must be cold and tired. Come in! Warm your bones, rest your bodies, and most of you should be considering a bath." An eyebrow was raised playfully at Orson. She was more than happy to help the man bathe if he desired company.

 

[draco519]

Orson nodded his head as Dremara said she was cold; though not so severely as before. “Ursui protects.” It was much of an answer as he could provide in his current state. Kauvric had nearly done them in. But he felt it needed said. “We’d have died were it not for Dagris.” He looked back to the man he spoke of. “It was his runes that kept that cavern from swallowing us all.”

Dagris smiled weakly. “You lot are more stubborn than that. Brannock would have eaten his way out.”

Brannock chuckled, albeit weakly. “It might have taken a while.”

“Or taken his boots off and melted his way out.” Fionn stepped forward to follow the thrall that gestured he follow to bathe and rest.

Roric grimaced at the thought. “I’d be glad the ice got me first, then.”

Cillian smirked at Roric, slowly following after the thrall to stop next to Nettie. “Brought me some luck, after all.” Bad for her, though, because now? Now he was interested. He’d not missed how her hips swayed when she walked. And he was curious. “See you at dinner?”

“Indeed. Go, brothers. Get cleaned up and rest.” Orson brought his gaze back to Dremara, and how she was covered in blood from embracing him. And Senni's gaze was upon him. There was an elephant in the room he wasn't sure how to properly address just yet. And the vial that hung around his neck beneath his tunic. "Will you be joining me, wife, or would you prefer to see me at dinner?"

 

[Poprockz]

"Oh..." Dremara blushed. While they were indeed married and had already been intimate, she wasn't sure she was ready to be casually naked around him yet. "I will see you later when we dine, in that case." He was given a curtsy before she turned to leave.

The woman paused though, turning back to him to go up on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. She then cleared her throat, nodded, and quickly walked away. It hadn't felt right to simply turn him down and leave, so she had wanted to give him a small token of her appreciation.

Though Nettie hadn't replied to his first comment, the pleased look on her face said all that one needed to know. She was very happy that both he had returned safely, and that he had appreciated her token of good fortune. Her fingers came up to resituate her glasses as she nodded, "Yes, I'll see you there. The lady said that it will be quite the feast to celebrate your bravery, so... It should be a welcome respite."

Lady Y'Sennia watched the exchanges, but drifted off to places unknown. Though... one might be able to guess where she might be off to.

 

[draco519]

Orson was shown, to no surprise of his, to Y’Sennia’s chambers. And the large, dark marble tub that was cut directly into the ground. Fires going in the floor beneath to keep the stone warm and the water hot. Steam rising to meet him as he stripped his armor off, placing it on the carved granite surface next to the door. As he had a hundred times before.

Reaching up, he pulled the ties out of his hair that braided portions of it to keep it out of his face, and walked forward. Dremara had healed his body, but the day had certainly taken it out of him. The heat of the water welcomed his bones, the steam comforted his lungs. It was a respite compared to the cold dampness he’d been in today.

Two handfuls of water splashed onto his face, rinsing the blood away, and he relaxed back into the tub, sitting along the bench on the side. Allowing it to cajole him as he felt his sore muscles melting to jelly.

 

[Poprockz]

“Champion of the Iron Vale…” A silky voice spoke from somewhere near the door, though the vampress herself was unseen, shifting from shadow to shadow until she was somewhere nearby. “King of the Kota… the men will be shouting it all through the night when you return.”

The patted sound of her bare feet could be heard behind him before her arms came loosely around his neck, her index finger starting to play with his chest hair. A curtain of black hair slipped past his left shoulder as her lips gently kissed the side of his neck.

“Will you tell me of your heroics, oh great light-welder?” It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing any clothing, her breasts pressed against his back as she held him. “A broken arm and some bruises being all you bear from Kauvric is no small feat.”

 

[draco519]

Orson’s eyes were closed, but the words brought a slow smile to his lips. King of the Kota. It had a good.. Ring to it. It caressed the air just so when spoken from the sultry voice of his vampiric lover, to be sure. Lips on the side of his neck as he tilted his head ever so slightly, drawing a long and slow moan from his relaxed lips.

Tell her of his heroics? Oh great light-wielder? His eyes opened, half lidded, as he smelled the incense in the room. The steam wafting upon his bath as the black hair spilled over his shoulder freely. “He wasn’t alone. There were more IceJarls in that cavern…” His voice was distant and troubled. “This far southeast of the Lands Beyond.”

Y’Sennia had been right when she looked at him with genuine fear in her eyes and alerted him to what happened to the Baleful Lake, and the corruption of her seeing mirror. “Kauvric warned me, before my arm.. Before I struck him down.. That all I care about would burn, that the women of the Kota would be subject to their twisted desires.”

The old stories of the IceJarls hadn’t spoken of their lusts, that he knew of. Though he wasn’t as versed in them as Dagris. “And… there were times it felt as though he were trying to drop the cavern on us; like he knew not even that would fell him.”

Orson’s hand crept up, touching along Senni’s arm as he felt the breasts against his back. A most welcome feeling. Something far more gentle and comforting than what he’d faced today. “He nearly had Cillian cornered, but the men fought well, worked together, and I cut his head off. The cavern collapsed after him.”

It took a moment to think of anything else to ask, his hand sprawling along her elbow, over her bicep and eventually threaded into that black hair, running his fingers through it. “The Lake was clearing as we walked past it.. Your mirror?”

 

[Poprockz]

"She was able to cleanse it," Y'Sennia remarked thoughtfully. "It was odd though, it seemed as though her power was pouring into the mirror which may have still be attuned to the lake. Perhaps her power was traveling through it to clear up the corruption as you passed. That girl has... a deep well of power. Not even I know what its limits might be."

She made a thoughtful noise before her arms retracted from around him, instead her hands coming to his shoulders. He was used to support her as she entered the hot water beside him, a sigh of contentment coming from that glorious heat. Baths were always something she enjoyed; it made her immortal life that much more bearable.

“I knew a hag once-," she commented, "nasty pieces of work, gags are. Anyway, she would be solicited by icejarls to make an elixir of stamina. Apparently they used it for victory rituals. Once an enemy clan or village was defeated, their leader would take the chief’s woman and fuck her for three nights until she was with child- the ultimate insult to their defeated opponents. I’m not sure what they do with her or the child once she gives birth, but I can't imagine it's anything good."

 

[draco519]

Orson knew little of hags. Given that he’d only ever heard of them when Y’Sennia spoke of their existence? It was likely they didn’t favor the cold of RimeHaven; and he hoped he was never surprised. Such a foe was likely not easily killed. But a stamina potion? That made him cock his eyebrow until she finished the story.

And it made him bite his cheek for a moment as she came to sit beside him. “So their lusts aren’t simply Naymeera, then.” His eyes moved, absently, over Y’Sennia’s body. He was a man, such things couldn’t be helped.

His hand moved from the back of the tub to around Senni’s shoulders, draping an arm over her so she could rest against him as he soaked. He watched the shift of the movement along the water’s surface.

“The stamina potion sounds enticing.” He smirked at the thought, looking down to Y’Sennia. “Though hardly necessary.”

 

[Poprockz]

She chuckled, her hair looking like tendrils of ink in the water. "You may have stamina, but I doubt you have enough stamina to fuck me without rest for seven hours straight. Besides, I got the distinct impression that "stamina" wasn't all that the potion did; I suspect it was a cocktail with other effects as well. Fertility and the overproduction of a man's seed were likely components too."

Y'Sennia leaned her head on his shoulder, watching the whips of steam come up from the tub. "The hag asked me for my venom once, as a component of a lust potion. In exchange, I actually got the recipe for this "stamina potion," though I haven't been able to make it. It calls for some rather rare and suspect ingredients."

 

[draco519]

Seven hours? Orson had to ponder that one. Would there even be any skin on his cock left if he performed such a feat? It wasn’t as though Senni wasn’t rather snug when he did push himself inside her. Though when she said she knew how to make it? His eyebrows raised, interested. But he also went back to the thought of the chafing.

But some things would be worth it. Still.. “I remember us carrying long into the night we met, watching the sun come up..” He distinctly remembered having done that. “It’s hard to tell time by the shaking of your legs, though.” He grinned, proud of himself and he knew it.

He looked past Senni, to the soaps and sponges and cocked a playful eyebrow down at her. Bringing his other hand up, he picked her head up to make her look at him so he could take her kiss… and, eventually, he asked it of her. “Is the King of the Iron Vale to wash himself?”

 

[Poprockz]

"Mm..." she hummed at the reminder of such nights. Sometimes she would reminisce and touch herself to the thought of it. Nothing compared to Orson's vigor, nor his intensity. No man could match him on any front, she thought to herself.

"Perish the though!" she replied with a laugh. "The King of the Iron Vale should not lift a hand to bathe!" With that, she waded over to the other side so she could grab one of the sponges. It was wetted before a healthy amount of scented soap was galloped upon it and massaged until the thing was frothing with bubbles. Satisfied, she moved back through the water towards him.

When he was reached, she started to run that soft sponge over his chest, making sure to take her time. After all, they were in no rush. All the others would be relaxing as well. In fact, she had made sure that each of the men had been sent a woman to tend to them. Whether they allowed the women into their baths was up to them, but she figured it might be fun for them to let loose.

Trails of suds run down his skin as the sponge moved, her eyes following it before flicking up to him. "How does it feel to be a King? I have a crown I would like to give you too if you will accept it."

 

[draco519]

Orson enjoyed the feeling of the soap cutting through the grime and sweat on his skin. Though this game between them always ended up sweaty again. He watched the way the water glistened over her body. The way, when she rose to get his shoulders, that the bathwater dripped off of her nipples. Such a wonderful sight.

Though her words made him laugh. “I can’t say I've ever thought of wearing a crown. I remember Graveth’s, and for all he was a decent man.. I thought the crown was..” How did he phrase it without outright insulting his wife’s father? “...gaudy. Feminine?”

His hand moved to Senni’s hip as she washed him, feeling the slick, soft skin beneath his fingers. “Not in a good way, mind you. More..” In the way a man who wore a crown did. Who did not fight his own wars. Who asked other men to die for him. It wasn’t the way of the Kota.

But it was the way of Kings. And he’d be expected to look the part, eventually. No decisions need to be made tonight. “It’s a generous offer; but tonight.. I think I will simply enjoy a bath.”

 

[Poprockz]

His assessment of Graveth's crown made Y'Sennia grin, a snicker coming from her lips. Though she liked the look of crowns, she too thought it was rather funny that Kings liked to adorn themselves with such fine headgear with no fear that battle would knock it off their heads.

"Hmm..." she hummed as the soapy sponge went over his shoulder. "Maybe you would prefer a circlet, a tattoo, or perhaps... a ceremonial weapon. A King must have something to mark him in the eyes of his rivals. But you're right... that is a thought for another night."

The woman scooted closer to him, sitting on his lap as she started to run the sponge up and down his burly arms. They were given an appreciative look. Oh how sweet it was to be held with those muscled limbs. To be held down... to be caressed. She could feel his cock bobbing in the water underneath her, and it only served to heat her body with anticipation. "I sent women to your men's rooms, so I assume dinner will be a bit later than usual, you know." She raised an eyebrow at him suggestively.

 

[draco519]

Orson cocked an eyebrow as Senni suggested a ceremonial weapon. A sword that wasn’t used in battle. Perhaps that was a different matter entirely. A tattoo? Anyone could get a tattoo, many of his own went down his chest on his left side. Drawing a straight line of the runecaster’s words over his pectoral and abs, even interfering with the growth of his chest hair in places. Blue ink that hummed with faint energy. Runes of protection, tales of his victories, or his familial line.

It was a thought for another night, indeed. And women going to his rooms? He could only imagine how that was going. Dagris would likely fall asleep on her. Fionn too shy to capitalize. Brannock, in his devotion to Josie, would likely decline. Roric might surprise him, he wasn’t so long in the tooth.. And poor Cillian? The man was so shy around women he’d hide from his mother.

“Seems you’ve thought of everything.” Orson said, a hand coming up to cup Senni’s face as she shifted on his lap, his thumb running across her lips. His cock against her now being contacted and starting to come to life. His own want stirring, shaking through the exhaustion.

“Quite clever.”

 

[Poprockz]

"I've always been a clever one," she mused, the sponge delicately cleaning his neck before she brought her leg over to his other side and straddled him. Though she didn't let him enter her, merely letting him rest against her mound as she pressed herself against his chest. The bubbles that coated him made her slick where their bodies connected, and a shiver went through her as her nipples were subtly teased.

"Lean forward for me, won't you?" She murmured seductively, "I need to get your back." As far as she was concerned, he was all hers tonight.

 

[draco519]

“Who am I to deny my gracious hostess?” Orson leaned forward, his hands moving up Senni’s back as she reached around to wash him. Her body against his, and with the size difference between them? He’d be surprised if she could reach every part of it without sliding her body all along his.

He saw no reason why he couldn’t kiss her neck while she worked. Using the bridge of his nose to do away with the hair that dared obstruct him. Hot breaths that wafted over her skin. He brought his lips down on the spots that smelled most like her perfume. They were the most inviting; the scent permeating his nose.

As he made his way up to her ear, his hand stayed between her shoulderblades to keep her supported and properly pressed against him while one hand dipped down into the water to squeeze her ass cheek; a finger getting curious around her puckered star. "I want all of you this night."