"The League of Creatures" (closed)

[Alice2015]

The League of Creatures

CLOSED​

(OOC: For anyone reading along, the whole "Creatures" concept isn't introduced until the second post.)


Rachel drew an arrow and pointed it toward the underbrush at the sound of slowly approaching horse hooves. She called out, “I can shoot you right through the underbrush!”

The clip-clop, clip-clop paused. After a moment, a female voice returned, "Perhaps you would prefer to know who you are about to shoot ... before you do so...?"

Rachel remained silent, readjusting her aim as her target emerged from the forest into the clearing. With her eyes growing wide in shock and panic, Rachel quickly tossed the bow and arrow harmlessly aside and dropped to the ancient yet still practiced position of submission: elbows and knees on the ground, fingers interlaced under the head, forehead pressed to those hands.

“Forgive me, m’lady!” she begged desperately. “I didn't know it was you! I swear! I thought it was some bandit come to steal my deer!”

Lady Heather brought her mount to a stop, studied the woman, then looked to the deer carcass the huntress had been dressing. She corrected, "I believe you mean my deer. These are my lands ... which makes that my deer."

As Heather was talking, the quicker moving clip-clop, clip-clop sounds coming up from behind her resulted in the arrival of 3 additional individuals. The first was Sir Harbert, an older man wearing the Bodyguard uniform seen about the House Dunwick, Lady Heather's home. Harbert had been Lady Heather's Personal Bodyguard since she was just 3 years old.

A few seconds behind Harbert came Brittany, Heather's Handmaid and best friend in all the world. The two had spent time together nearly every day of their lives since before the League of Barons siege on the Imperial Capital City changed each of their lives forever.

Last but not least came yet another man, Marcus Stormbow. He was dressed in uniform, too, but one very different from the one Harbert wore. Marcus was a common City Guard, not the far more prestigious Personal Bodyguard who typically escorted Heather both within and without her home and its grounds. But Heather had met the man once and had been impressed with him, so when Harbert went to select a second armed man to protect her on her morning ride, she'd very quickly asked on Marcus.

“Rise, huntress,” Heather said to the woman. "You have not explained yourself regarding the poaching of my deer."

“Forgive me, M’lady!" Rachel responded, still on the ground, face down. "I was only trying to feed my family … my pregnant mother … my lame father … my three sisters.”

Heather laughed, asking, “Your father is lame but was still able to give your mother four daughters … with another on the way?”

She dismounted, approached the woman, and asked, “What is your name, Huntress? Rise, first. I will not speak to you while you are eating dirt.”

The woman was slow to arise, fearful she would be executed at any moment. “Rachel, M’Lady. My name is Rachel.”

“That's all? Just Rachel?" Heather asked with humor in her tone. "Not Rachel the Huntress? Or … Rachel of the Woods.”

The huntress seemed confused. Heather explained, "We witnessed you shot from that knob yonder. It must have been ... how far, Sir Harbert ... a hundred yards…?”

Heather looked to her most trusted protector, who himself had looked back to the spot from which Rachel had taken the shot. “A hundred and thirty, M’Lady … incredible shot with a simple recurve bow. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, M’Lady.”

Heather looked back to Rachel, who was trying but failing to suppress a smile of pride. She asked the Huntress, “You can repeat this … make this kind of shot more often than not?”

Without hesitation, Rachel answered, “Yes, M’Lady.”

Harbert had dismounted as well to collect the discarded bow and quiver and now -- at Heather's insistence -- handed both to Rachel. Heather gestured toward a tree with a sufficient girth and distance for the test and said, “Put one in its trunk.”

Rachel smiled wide with joy, her earlier fears of execution or at least lashing for poaching now fading. She looked in the direction of the target, estimated the distance at perhaps 80 yards, gauged the wind, compensated for humidity, notched the arrow, drew the bow … smiled to herself … and let the arrow fly. The missile whistled slightly as it cut through the air and made a loud plunk sound when it hit a tree ... the wrong tree.

“You missed,” a rather disappointed Heather said, adding, "By quite a bit, actually."

"Did I though...?" Rachel asked, quickly adding, "M'Lady?"

Heather looked back toward the tree she'd thought she'd indicated, then toward the one the huntress had pierced. Then, something she hadn't expected caught her eye. She studied it a moment, but the distance was too great. Looking to the young City Guard, Heather asked, "Mister Stormbow, will you be kind enough to retrieve Miss Rachel's arrow for us to examine."

As the City Guard rode out to the tree, then turned to return, Heather asked the huntress about her family, particularly about her father's lameness and her own poaching. Rachel again apologized profusely, then began to answer, "My father was run over by a..."

When she went silent, Heather prodded impatiently, "Go on. Finish your story."

Rachel hesitantly continued, "He was pushing a cart of oats to market ... when a man on a galloping horse knocked him aside." Again, she hesitated, then clarified, "A City Guardsman."

"You took this to the Head of the Guard, yes?" Heather asked. "Something like this should have come to me for recourse."

"The Guardsman had been pursuing a thief," Rachel explained, feeling self-conscious about criticizing the Lady's own protective force. "His duty made him ... what's the word, immune? This is what the man at the gate told me."

"He was wrong," Heather said with a touch of anger in her voice.

She had more to say on the topic, but at that moment Marcus returned with the arrow ... and the squirrel through which it had passed before lodging in the tree.

"Told ya," the huntress said with obvious pride. "Didn't miss ... M'Lady. Since you will be taking the deer ... may I keep the squirrel ... to feed my kin?" Then, realizing that the topic of poaching hadn't yet been settled, she asked, "Unless ... I'm being arrested, M'Lady."

"No, you're not being arrested, Rachel," Heather said.

Sir Harbert cleared his throat, stepped closer to his boss, and said softly, "With respect, M'Lady ... you cannot give leniency to a poacher simply because--"

Heather politely gestured him silent, though, explaining, "No one is getting leniency, Sir Harbert." With an authoritative tone, she said, "Miss Rachel ... you poached a deer, a crime punishable by death."

Rachel's eyes widened yet again. The surprise wasn't limited there, though; off to the side, the Handmaid covered her mouth with a hand as she gasped in horror. Brittany had never known her friend and Lady to hand down such a harsh punishment for any crime, let alone one that was done in desperation to feed one's family.

"However," Heather continued, pausing for effect, "I find it a tragedy to waste such talents as you have demonstrated here this morning. Therefore ... your punishment shall be a five-year term of Indentured Service."

Rachel's eyes began glazing over with tears. She'd heard stories of women being indentured to harbor whore houses to service sailors and fat cat Noblemen.

But then Heather concluded the sentence with, "You will report to Sir Harbert at sunrise in three days' time to be trained for the Castle Guard."

The huntress's lips widened in a smile, and she reached a free hand up to wipe away the tears that had been about to spill down her cheeks. She asked in shock, "The Guard?"

Ironically, Sir Harbert stepped near again and, in a hushed voice, asked, "The Guard?"

"The Guard," Heather repeated looking to her protector. Then to Rachel, she said, "Take this deer to your village and share it with not only your family but your neighbors as well. Then, have your family settle its affairs."

"M'Lady...?" Rachel responded, confused.

"They are coming with you," Heather said, adding, "If you think they would be comfortable living in a small home on the grounds of my own home." Peeking over to Brittany, then back to Rachel, Heather continued, "I'm sure that my Handmaid can find positions for your sisters ... for your mother. We might even be able to find something for your father, dispite his lameness."

Rachel was practically giddy. Again, she dropped to her knees and elbows, rambling almost incoherently into the dirt about the offer.

"Get up, Miss Rachel," Heather ordered with humor in her voice. When the other woman stood again, she finished with a simple, "Be on your way then."

Heather indicated that the encounter with the huntress had ended, and Sir Harbert gave her a hand up into her saddle. They all bid farewell before Heather turned back the way they'd come and said, "I'm hungry. Let us return home. Maybe Cookie has roasted some venison ... or squirrel."

 

[Alice2015]

They headed back the way they'd come, riding for quite sometime at a casual canter. Eventually, Heather slowed her horse to a walk and gave Sir Harbert a knowing glance. Her Personal Bodyguard slowed his horse even further until the Handmaid had passed by him and the City Guardsman came up alongside.

"Your Lady would like to speak to you, Mister Stormbow," Harbert told the younger Guardsman. "Move up, listen closely, don't interrupt -- any question you think you may have will likely be answered by your Lady eventually. Don't speak unless asked to do so ... and -- more important than anything -- do not make any decisions unless you are certain you can live with them for the rest of your life."

Harbert knew he was being short of details, but it wasn't his place to tell Marcus any more. As the Guardsman moved ahead of Harbert to reach Heather, Brittany slowed her own horse to position herself next to the older man. She asked softly, "Is he joining us on our quest, Sir Harbert?"

"I can't imagine that he would say no, Lady Brittany," he answered. Then, drawing and releasing a deep breath that revealed his concern, he added, "He should, of course ... say no, I mean. It is unlikely that any of us will survive this quest, as you call it."

Up ahead of them, Heather greeted Marcus with a smile before chatting with him about their encounter with the huntress. She said, "Rachel isn't the only person I hope to recruit into my service today, Mister Stormbow.

"I want to tell you a tale, Marcus," Heather continued, looking to the man as she asked, "Do you mind if I call you Marcus?"

She gathered the words she'd been practicing off and on over the morning ride, then continued. "I don't know how extensive your education is, specifically your education in the history of People, so I am going to proceed as if you know nothing more than the fact that we are, in fact, called People. Please, if I seem to treat you as some sort of ignorant simpleton ... please understand that it is not intentional. I ... I simply need to ensure that you are fully versed in the history of our race ... and in what we have done in this place we call home."

Heather certainly didn't mean any offense to Marcus in talking down to him about history. The plain simple fact was that amongst the peasantry, education beyond the lowest levels of writing, reading, and counting was not common. Heather knew that the vast majority of her subjects couldn't write their own names, let alone read them when they were written down by others.

Basic arithmetic was a given, of course: I have twenty sheep, I sell ten at market, I have ten left was the norm. But any form of advanced calculation was the purview of the architect or road builder or bookkeeper.

Heather, of course, had received the best education available. Oh, sure, she didn't like mathematics much, and beyond flora, fauna, and Creatures, she didn't really have any further interest in the sciences. But history was not only an obsession to her, it was a duty!

"We are taught from a very young age that our race ... People ... have always been here ... that we originated here, on the Continent ... that we have always been here and that we have always belonged here ... that we were here even before the Creatures. This is the reason given for why People should have dominance over all that there is ... the land, the sea ... even the sky above us."

She looked to her riding mate and said quite bluntly, "This is not true ... not at all. It is a lie. Our forefathers came to this place from far across the sea over a thousand years ago. No one really knows from where we came, of course. We have tried to find the place of our origin ... expeditions ... east into the sea. Most did not return. Those that did reported seeing nothing more than sea monsters and more water.

"Because of this," she continued, "the story of People originating here has persisted. It is used to give us authority over the land ... over the things on it ... over the Creatures who those in power would like those who serve them to believe came to the Continent later ... as interlopers."

They reached a cliff that looked down upon the sea. Heather gestured for Marcus to aid her in dismounting, then led him down a steep but easily navigable rocky trail that in some places had had to be hammered and chipped out of the rock wall. Behind and above them, Harbert and Brittany simply stood there and looked on.

At a natural landing just a few feet above where waves were crashing against the rocks, Heather continued, "I want to tell you another story, Marcus ... one about me. The people of Little Gull Rock believe that I am the daughter of a wealthy Nobleman from the Continent ... a man who -- during desperate times -- betrothed his only daughter, a girl of only 8 years of age at the time ... to a rival Nobleman in exchange for land and coin, only to then realize his mistake, change his mind, and hide her -- hide me -- here on this little isle.

"There is ... literally ... no truth to this tale. I would like to tell you the truth, Marcus," Heather continued, turning to look him directly in the eyes before finishing, "But before I do so, I must tell you that knowing this information ... learning this truth ... means indebting yourself to me for the rest of your life..."

Her lips spread a bit as she considered what she'd said. She added, "...or perhaps at least for the rest of mine."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stormbow:​

Sitting astride a white horse Marcus listened as she spoke, not that he was really listening to her words. Mostly he was just listening to the beautiful sounds she was making. And she was as beautiful as a Goddess.

While she spoke he envisioned what she looked like with her clothes off, writhing in passionate ecstasy under him. Did her carpet match her hair or her eyebrows? Did she know what men liked? Or was she as pure as a fresh snowfall?

When she stopped talking she was looking at him waiting for his response. “I am at your service Lady Heather.” He’d seen her throughout the town these last five years, watching her walk in beauty without ever noticing him. “For as long as you’ll have me that is.”​

 

[Alice2015]

Heather studied Marcus's face as he responded and knew he meant it with all his heart. He wasn't the first man to have dedicated himself to her -- body, heart, and soul -- based simply upon her beauty, and he likely wouldn't be the last. Heather knew that she was beautiful, one of the most beautiful women to have ever graced this New World. She'd taken advantage of her beauty often, allowing people in positions of power or wealth -- mostly men, of course -- to do things for her that they might not have done otherwise.

And yet Heather didn't consider herself a tease because never, not once, had she herself hinted that to do this thing or that thing for her might result in her escorting the provider of such a favor to a private location where he might partake of that bit of Heather's beauty normally hidden by her elegant clothing.

If men -- or women -- wanted to do things for her with the hope that they might one day benefit romantically or sexually from their efforts, Heather wasn't going to stop them. She couldn't! There was far too much riding on what she had ahead of her in life. Heather needed to take every advantage and every short cut and every break upon which she stumbled.

She looked up toward the cliff's edge, finding Sir Harbert and Brittany staring down upon her and the City Guardsman. Each wore an expectant expression, knowing how important this moment was. Looking back to Marcus, Heather continued her tale.

"Here on Little Gull Rock, I am known as Lady Heather," she said, not telling him anything he didn't already know. "But on the other side of the world ... in what once was the home of the Frenkish Empire, I was known as Her Majesty Imperial Princess Allison, Lady of Ras Rufna, and Guardian of Vint."

Heather hesitated a moment to let Marcus contemplate the statement, then added, "I was all of that ... and was only 8-years-old. Figure that one out."

She was going to continue talking about how she'd fallen from being part of the Family that, at one time, had controlled the entirety of the New World to being a seemingly unimportant Noblewoman living in a modest home -- for Noble standards, anyway -- on an enormously insignificant island on the other side of the world. But she thought the expression on his face was backed by a dozen or more questions that needed answers, so she instead only asked, "Shall I go on...? Or ... do you have questions?

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stormbow:​

“Four questions actually. One, are you still engaged to the other person? Two, Are you planning on returning and reclaiming your throne? Three, if you’re going back when do we leave? Four, Do I get nicer armor, like Sir Harbert’s, than the basic city guard uniform”

He didn’t care about the money, not really, He was an orphan and had been raised in by the Order of the Shining Path since he was two. So he lived in the temple, ate temple food, he had no expenses. And as little as he got for being a city guard anything. Literally anything paid better than what he got now. Only beggars made less. Plus, the Order had vows of poverty never accumulating great wealth. Anything he made as a Guard went to help the Temple, it bought Candles, Incense, Food, Clothing, Blankets, and any other essentials the Holy Brothers needed.

As a Temple initiate, he’d learned his letters and counting and could read and write in several languages, as an Acolyte he’d learned survival and could live off the land and feed himself and several other indefinitely and keep them hidden. He’d had to survive for a month and return to the temple with an animal hide to move to the next level. The Bear skin still warmed his bed in the cold months.

As a Lesser brother he’d learned bow, sword, shield, hammer, and axe both afoot and on horse. He excelled as two daggers, better than many brothers. Not nearly all or even most. But he was good enough that Brother Tomas had started training him advanced techniques, before he hurt himself or someone else by accident.

At twenty-five summers old he was he was a full brother, but had not faced battle or war, so had not yet earned Armour or Horse. What he had was City property, he was only loaned it for his duty.

Everyone thought he was a muscle-bound idiot orphan with a pretty face abandoned by a whore mother. True his mother had been a night lady on the silken road, but the Night of Shattered Glass had ended her. Not abandonment. Only the Brothers of the Order knew his truth. The Bandits had raided the town, killing dozens, burning buildings in their ride. A single candle mark passed between their arrival and departure. Most of the bandits lay dead from the Brotherhood’s defense of the city. The few that escaped made off with coins and bad memories. And even they only lived a week before the Order rode them down.

After that the Order had helped the city rebuild, and trained the city guard to be better than bullying idiots with pitch forks and mules. Granted most still weren’t much more than that. The Sergeant could at least muddle his way through a letter.

As a lesser brother he hadn't take any vows, other than Poverty. And the city girls were happy with that, and he’d proven that fact on many nights in the backs of barns, wagons, and fields. He could drink but found no joy in it. The local ale was dark brown, warm, and tasted of sweat and mold. The Brothers wine was red and sweet and tasted of ice berries on a cold morning as the night winds whistled through the tree branches in the high mountains. He allowed himself one glass on the Long Night and on his Naming Day.

“I’ll take no life in anger. Only to defend another or myself.” Marcus told her. It was a simplified version of the Brotherhoods vows.​

 

[Alice2015]

“Four questions actually," Marcus responded.

Heather's lips spread just a bit. She could imagine what the questions might be: are you insane? have you always had these delusions of grandeur? do I get paid coin for this morning's ride before they take you back to the asylum? can I see your titties?

She hadn't exposed the truth of who she was to many people who hadn't known since she was a child, but one or two of those in whom she had confided had questioned or even doubted the truth of it all. Luckily, for the most part, Heather had been very skilled at knowing who to trust and who not to.

She had in innate ability to judge people, which was exactly why Marcus Stormbow was standing before her now, listening to her tale. Heather only knew the most public facts about him: his connection to the Order of the Shining Path; his vow of poverty; his training with blades. She didn't know the details of any of those, however; she didn't know how he'd come to be with the organization that performed such vital work and yet asked no recognition for it; of how he'd come to be an Initiate in the first place; or of just how good he might one day prove himself to be with those blades in which he'd trained and still trained today.

"One, are you still engaged to the other person?"

Heather didn't immediately understand that Marcus was asking about her betrothed. When it came to her, she chuckled, then blushed. "No, Marcus. I am not now, nor have I ever been beholden to a man as a betrothed. My destiny is..."

She didn't know how to talk about her destiny without reverting to the delusions of grandeur fear again. She finished with a simple, "...beyond that of marriage ... family."

He seemed happy with that for now, continuing, "Two, are you planning on returning and reclaiming your throne?"

"I am," Heather said without hesitation, but then quickly added, "But it's not about the throne itself." Suddenly, she realized that she was back to the whole destiny thing again. "This world of ours is falling ... has fallen apart. People as a species play a part in this world, I do not contest that. But so do the Creatures who were here long before us.

"Yes, yes, I know," she said as she looked out upon the sea separating Little Gull Rock from the Continent. "The Teachings say that People were here first ... that this is our world and that the Creatures came second ... as invaders. But this is the lie that has allowed for the extermination of the Creatures ... for the conquest and exploitation of their lands by greedy Noblemen..."

Heather went quiet when she realized that she was beginning to rant. She did this sometimes, usually when faced with adversary regarding her destiny but also sometimes when she was first explaining that destiny to people -- like Marcus -- who were only just hearing of it for the first time.

She looked to him again and smiled. "I am taking back the Imperial Throne ... but not because I deserve it ... not because I was robbed of my inheritance ... of my legacy. I am taking it back because it is the only way I know of in which I can bring balance to the world ... to return peace and prosperity to everyone, People and Creature alike."

A large wave crashed against the rocks a couple of dozen yards from them, sending a wall of mist high into the air. It surprised Heather, catching her attention; the morning sun caught the water, sending a rainbow of color up before them. For a moment, she forgot about her destiny, about the wars between People and Creatures, about the slaughter of so many vulnerable beings for their homelands or simply out of hate.

When Heather looked back to Marcus, he asked, "Three, if you’re going back when do we leave?"

She smiled again. This had been far easier than she'd expected. Of course, if she'd known more about Marcus -- about his history, about his upbringing, about his feelings of duty -- she wouldn't have been surprised. She told him, "Soon. We have one or two things to do before that ... but soon."

And last but not least, Marcus asked, "Four, do I get nicer armor, like Sir Harbert’s, than the basic city guard uniform.”​

Heather couldn't help but laugh at the man's inquiry. She looked him up and down; his garb was pretty basic, cheap and a bit worn. But then so was everything about Little Gull Rock. The disadvantage to being an exiled Princess wanted dead by the majority of the powerful Noblemen who ran the World was that you couldn't really live a lavish lifestyle.

It didn't mean that Heather had no access to coin, though. She had the Water Bank, of course. But she only drew from it when necessary to keep the Quest alive. No, for the most part, the economy of Little Gull Rock relied on two sources: fishing and donations from a very small number of Nobles who knew of Heather's existence as Princess Allison of Lentfrenk. Because of these limitations, the island, the city, and even her House -- which appeared lavish from the outside -- often survived on a tight budget.

Before she could answer, though, Marcus made a statement to go along with his questions: “I’ll take no life in anger. Only to defend another or myself.”​

"Of course," Heather responded without hesitation. "If it were my choice, I would reclaim the Throne and return our World to its rightful balance without bloodshed. I ... I doubt that that can be done. But I promise you, Marcus ... I will do my best."

She again looked him up and down, smiled, and promised, "And you will have the finest uniform money can buy." Her lips spread even further as she said with a bit of a mischievous tone, "But ... right now ... I am going to need you to remove the uniform you are currently wearing."

Heather looked up to the cliff top again and made a gesture that Sir Harbert and Brittany had been expecting. They jumped into action, not that their movements said anything specific about their intentions. Looking back to Marcus, Heather continued, "I need you to take a swim for me if you don't mind. You do swim, don't you?"

She gestured for him to follow, then descended the path further, taking her away from the rocky ledge against which the waves had been pounding and down into a bit of a cove. Even though her destination was nearer the level of the sea, the rocks farther out protected it from the powerful waves that sent water high into the air.

When she finally came to a stop, Heather was standing on a narrow outcrop of relatively smooth rock that was surrounded on both sides by deep pools of water. Before Marcus ventured out onto the outcrop, she gestured him to stop. "Please, remove your uniform and weapons, Marcus. This, um ... this next step ... it will be easier if you are not encumbered by the weight of your possessions."

Then, smirking, she clarified, "You may leave on your underlayer ... to hide your, um ... well..."

There was nothing sexual about what was ahead of Marcus, of course. Heather was a woman, obviously, and she couldn't help but wonder sometimes that men looked like below their underlayers. But this was neither the time nor the place for such things.

Once he was down to his most basic undergarment, Heather gestured Marcus to join her out on the outcrop. Occasionally, the incoming waves would splash about her lower body, the water causing her own riding garb to begin adhering to her legs; one particularly larger splash hit Heather in the chest, causing her deliciously young, firm, round bosom to suddenly become more delicious indeed.

She shrieked playfully at the sudden chill that shot through her, laughing. "I didn't see that one coming."

Heather gestured Marcus toward the end of the outcrop, putting him precariously between the two deep pools on either side of him. If it weren't for the rocky shoals just beyond, the powerful surf would surge in and wash him off into the surf. It was safe here, though ... safe enough.

By now, Sir Harbert had assisted Brittany down the cliff trail to join the pair. The Bodyguard began gathering clothing, weapons, and other items to prevent them from being washed away by an errant wave, while the Handmaid hurried up to her Lady ... and began undressing her. Heather's eyes were set upon the City Guard standing on the rocky outcrop as one piece of clothing after another was removed from her body and handed over to Harbert.

When she was in little more than a shift and her boot liners, Heather raised her head a bit and shook it. Behind her, the very skilled Brittany very quickly pulled the mass of hair into a rough braid; skillfully and in just seconds, she tamed the mane and tied off its end with a little bit of string.

Walking onto the outcrop until she was barely out of arms reach of him, Heather asked Marcus, "Do you trust me, Mister Stormbow?"

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

Stripping down to his small clothes he figured he was either being pranked or it was some initiation. And the probability of a prank grew when the Knight took his clothes and weapons. Unfortunately, his small clothes only cover his lower half, and even then they only went past his personal parts. More than that and he wouldn't be able to move in the armor. And he’d had them for a while so they were, tighter than they should be and going thin.

When he got to the outcrop, he wondered how deep the water was. Temple swimming lessons involved being through in a pond. Sink or swim. Then rivers and finally the deeper waters.

He hated sharks. Foul sneaky beasts that moved like a cougars in three directions.

Glancing as The Lady Heather undressed, he caught glimpses of her through the material, the darker bits drawing his eyes and making his small clothes that much tighter as things grew. The outline of breasts and the dark shadow of what was possibly a nipple made it inappropriate to look, but he didn’t want to turn away. Even as he did, before his lustful thoughts made themselves painfully obvious. He was bigger than most in height and chest, more like a farmer’s son with a scholar’s mind. But it was his other parts that made the girls want him more than any other man.

Gwynyfyr of the tavern called him the manly stallion, her friend Yenifer said he was too big, until he was buried inside her. Then she’d cried for a night afterwards. His back had looked like he’d been lashed as well. But none of the Brotherhood had commented, though a few had smiled knowingly. Since then a few sisters and daughters had warmed his bed, or he theirs, on many a night. And more than one father or brother had tried to pick a quarrel.

His fist was like a blacksmiths hammer. And his skull was even harder, but it was his speed and dexterity that saved many a man from a maiming. That and he didn’t mean them any harm, but he wasn’t letting them hurt him either.

"Do you trust me, Mister Stormbow?" She asked.

“Kinda hard not to with me in my smalls, and my weapons in your man’s hands.” Marcus replied.​

 

[Alice2015]

(OOC for any readers we might have: I am changing Harbert to Herbert so that my phone will recognize it as a correct spelling.)

(OOC: Also, I added a bit more detail to the "undressing" scene above for fun. Just roll with the inconsistencies. )


Heather smiled at Marcus's response. Earlier, she'd peek down at his groin while he pulled his undershirt over his head, noting that what he thought of as his small clothes contained a masculine member that didn't look at all small from even that distance.

She'd looked back to Marcus's manhood again a moment later, after Brittany had helped her out of her mostly decorative steel armor and leather corset and fore sleeves, then -- after Heather herself had unbuttoned her dress down to her waist -- out of that layer of outer clothing as well.

That second glance revealed that she'd been very much right about her first glance's assumption, making her want to ask is that a truncheon in your pocket or are you just happy to see me? She wouldn't have been able to speak the question, though, as just thinking the words caused her fair skinned face to blush. Feeling the heat filling her face, Heather grasped at Brittany -- who had moved to stand a bit to the side -- and moved her in between her and Marcus to hide her blush.

"He's really something, isn't he M'Lady?" the Handmaid had asked a moment later, knowing full well what her lifelong best friend's issue was. Peeking back over her shoulder at Marcus -- and down to his all-so-obvious erection -- Brittany had turned back to Heather and asked, "Perhaps he might be the one...?"

The Lady of Little Gull Rock had known exactly what her Handmaid had meant; the two of them had been friends since even before they'd learned to walk, and despite their extreme difference in station, they still engaged in girl talk as much as any two or more women of equal station. Peeking past Brittany, Heather had again taken in the whole of her newest Guardsman -- and Quest member, too -- before leaning back to look into her friend's face again.

"He can't be," Heather had whispered. "You know that."

"Yeah, yeah, the Prophecy and all that bullshit," Brittany had responded, forgetting -- or simply ignoring -- that difference. The Handmaid had then given Heather a simple curtsey and said with mocked respect, "Yes, M'Lady, you are right. My apologies. The Prophecy. We must adhere to the Prophecy."

Peeking back at Marcus, then looking back to Heather, Brittany had smiled devilishly and asked, "Can I fuck him then?"

They'd burst out laughing together, only doing so in embarrassment a moment later as they'd realized that Sir Harbert had stepped up close to collect his Lady's clothing and gear and heard the lewd comment.

Now standing with Marcus on the outcrop, Heather looked back to Sir Herbert, giving him a knowing nod. He deposited the shed clothing, weapons, and more, then moved down the rocks to where a brass bell was mounted to a wooden frame just above the fluctuating water level. Giving the frame a kick sent the bell on a pivoting arm down into the water. Misting water shot out of air holes in its top, allowing it to sink until it was entirely beneath the surface even on the outward movement of the sea.

Pulling his sword and holding it tip down over where the bell had disappeared, Sir Herbert suddenly jabbed it downward, as if stabbing an enemy laying on the ground. A muted bong sounded, followed by yet another and another as Sir Herbert continued striking the brass instrument.

As her original Bodyguard was ringing the bell, Heather asked her new one, "Have you ever heard of the Merfolk, Marcus?"

Most People believed that Mermaids and Mermen were nothing more than legend. The two groups of people who truly believed in them were the fishers who'd caught them in their nets or on their lines ... and the Nobles who often paid large bounties for the capture of Merfolk, preferably but not necessarily still alive.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

“Merfolk?” Marcus asked, “No, I do not believe the drunk tales of lonely sailors with sun baked brains and too much liquid grain in their bellies. They saw foul sharks in their nets or under their boats, trying to eat their catch.”

The sailors that did see that stuff were ignored, no one had ever brought proof. It always ‘slipped the line’ or ‘cut the net’ and escaped. Much like the hunters that claimed to see werewolves, great tall hairy men, and a white elk. A man got lonely, had to much liquid grain, and suddenly weird stories were told.

They usually ended up in a cell for the night and paid a fine in the morning. Marcus had heard more drunken stories than he could remember. Hells, last week a fisherman had claimed a ghost ship had crashed on the rocks. Nothing had ever been found.

“I don’t believe in Dragons or Minotaur either. Or the little men of the mountains that smell gold. Fairy tales.” Looking her over he kept his face as impassive as he could, even as his eyes traced the curve of her hips, and the swell of her breasts. Would she claw his back or whimper and lay there when his cock slid inside her sheath? Had she ever had a man? Did she know anything about the act? She had to know, she was only a few years younger than himself, she had to be at least nineteen summers. Probably closer to twenty-one. Would she spread her lags and face him? Or did she like to be taken like a mare taken by a stallion?​

 

[Alice2015]

“No, I do not believe the drunk tales of lonely sailors..." Marcus began with regard to his belief in Merfolk, continuing on with his doubts in werewolves, great tall hairy men, and white elk, too.

“I don’t believe in Dragons or Minotaur either," he continued. "Or the little men of the mountains that smell gold. Fairy tales.”

"Neither do I, Marcus," Heather responded, smiling as she added, "about Dragons or Minotaurs of gold-smelling men ... though the latter might come in handy at times."

She looked to Sir Herbert again, who was continuing to dong, dong, dong the underwater bell with the end of his sword. Then, looking to the deep pools on either side of the outcrop on which the pair of them stood, Heather smiled wider and stated firmly, "But there is such a thing as Merfolk ... and--"

There was a sudden splashing of water off to one side that drew the attention of both of them, though, nothing was to be seen but the disruption of the water by what Marcus would likely think was a very large fish -- maybe even one of the sharks he dreaded -- but of which Heather knew better.
​

A sudden splashing in the water on the other side of the outcrop drew Marcus's eyes, though, this time Heather looked to him instead. Knowing that time was short, she quickly explained, "Do not fight them! They will not harm you. They are my allies and my friends, and they are here to show you something that ... oh, Marcus ... you have never seen anything like it before--"


Even as Heather was finishing, something shot out of the water and landed on the rocks opposite the pool: a female Merfolk. It stared at Heather only a moment with an expression of recognition, then turned its attention to Marcus. Smiling with fierce-looking teeth designed to shred fish, the Mermaid -- as the female Merfolk were called -- dug her long, sharp claws into the rocks and lifted her torso upwards; she sported what might be considered beautiful, modestly sized People tits if it weren't for the lack of nipples, the soft, scaled skin that covered her entire bosom, and the paired set of gills that began at mid-neck and reached down and out over her upper chest.

Just as suddenly as she'd leapt onto the rocks, the Mermaid leapt into the air and sunk with nary a splash into the pool near the People, disappearing into the depths and from their view in a flash. Heather reached out to grab Marcus by the arms, the first time she'd made physical contact with him except for when he'd helped her down from her horse up on the cliff top.

"Do not be afraid!" she stressed with concern. "Breath deep! Don't fight them or--"

But before she could finish, yet another Merfolk shot out of the water, wrapping its arms around Marcus's arms and torso as its momentum knocked the Guardsman off his feet in into the water. In a flash, yet a third Merfolk swam up close, each of them firmly taking one of Marcus's arms in their tight grips. They quickly and powerfully waggled their tails, propelling the three of them out of the smaller pool and out into the deeper water. In less than twenty seconds, they were in the open waters, dozens of yards beyond where Heather still stood and hoped all would be well with her new hero.

Both of the Merfolk were males, which Marcus would likely realize soon. A third figure -- the original female -- approached again, swimming directly in front of the People just out of reach. When she thought the time was right, she squealed something in the language of the Merfolk, and the two men ceased swimming. They separated a bit, using their tails to maintain Marcus's position with arms spread; they were strong and built for the sea, meaning that if Marcus did try to fight them, he wouldn't accomplish much.

The Mermaid moved closer, tapping the nails of one hand to her chest between her gills and faux-tits. Her chest swelled as her gills filled them with oxygen, an act that was usually only necessary when the Merfolk left the water; while in the sea, water brought in through their mouth passed over the gills, which removed oxygen and then expelled the water via the gill slits.

This time, in an effort to make clear her intentions to the People who was still holding his breath but surely soon to run out of it, the Mermaid exhaled the oxygen through her mouth. Bubbles larger than those that escaped through the slits rose up before her face, heading for the surface, now more than twenty yards above their heads.

Moving even closer yet to the People, she drew another deep breath into her lungs, tapped again to her chest, then touched her lips ... then reached out slowly toward Marcus's lips. Hoping that he understood her intent, the Mermaid moved forward with the intention of pressing her mouth to his and expelling what was still mostly good air into his lungs.​

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

His first thought was he was gonna drown. She’d made him a sacrifice to her dark allies. His second thought was he’d never know if she was a virgin, or what it would feel like to have her tongue on his shaft.

Holding his breath as long as he could he wondered if this was how more merfolk were made. Sailors and fishermen didn’t drown, they became merfolk with dark magics.

Or would he become a shark? With his lungs burning the female kissed him, exhaling air into his lungs. So, this was it. Death by mermaid. She wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t beautiful either. Further proof that sailors and fisherman drank too much, and far too often.

When she pulled back, he expected her to be angry when he didn’t change. Instead, she seemed rather calm about it. After a few minutes she kissed him again, filling his lungs with more air. He didn’t like this, not one bit. But his other choice was drowning.

When they finally let go, he swam upwards to breathe in fresh air. A fair distance from shore they had taken him, far enough that if he tried to return, they’d quickly drown him.​

 

[Alice2015]

The Merfolk followed Marcus to the surface, emerging surrounding him on all but the shoreside. They seemed so calm and comfortable compared to the People who was gasping for air and staring longingly at the distant shore. The Mermaid swam closer to Marcus, made a gesture of drawing a deep breath as a diving People might, then looked to her male counterparts.

In a flash, the two Mermen snatched Marcus's arms again and dove, dragging him with them. This time, they didn't travel a mere couple of hundred yards horizontally and a couple of dozen feet deep but instead headed much farther away from shore and much deeper. The Mermaid swam up to Marcus's front, wrapping her softly scaly arms around his torso as she again pressed her mouth to his. She filled his lungs again and again as the two males did all the propelling of the quartet through the sea.

Eventually, she parted from the People, squealing and causing the Mermen to stop paddling through the water. This time, though, instead of simply holding Marcus in place, they use their tails to turn the man slowly in a circle, revealing his surroundings to him. He couldn't focus as well as they could, of course, but he could surely see the hulk of a sunken sailing vessel just yards away.

The ship had been on the bottom of the sea for years, possibly decades: it sails long ago rotted and floated away, and most of its wooden surfaces were covered in mollusks, coral, sea anemone, sea weeds, and more; sea fauna, from crabs to sea stars to urchins crawled all about it while dozens of fish species swam amongst it all.

As the Mermen kept Marcus turned toward the craft, the Mermaid swam quickly to and through a hole in the hull, disappearing for a moment into the darkness. Several fish -- including an 8-foot-long shark -- hurried out in fear, scattering in every direction. The Mermaid reappeared, swimming directly up to Marcus and stopping close.

As her male counterparts released their hold on the People, the female held a small, corroded box out before him. She forced open its lid, exposing its contents: gold coins, large black pearls, and a variety of colorful jewels, some loose and others in pieces of jewelry. She moved closer, closing the lid, and making it obvious that she meant him to take it.

She didn't know what he would do next: would he want to return to the surface again or would he want to remain deep with them. If the latter, she would offer Marcus more air if he indicated the need; if the former, her male counterparts would swim him back to the shore ... with his treasure.

......................​

On the shore, the trio of People waited anxiously for the resolution of what Heather had initiated. The concern was obvious in her face. She'd thrown Marcus into the deep end, literally and figuratively both, without knowing how he would respond. She might have lost him from her Quest by acting so soon after having gotten to know him. For all she knew, he'd drowned out there in the deep, unable or unwilling to work with the Merfolk to keep his lungs filled with air.

"Should we worry?" Brittany asked.

"No," Sir Herbert said. When the two women looked to him, he shrugged his shoulders and explained, "There is nothing to be done. Either this works ... or this doesn't."

Heather looked to the sea again. She thought she might be looking at heads and shoulders bobbing on the surface, but the waves were too rough and tall to be certain. All they could do was wait ... for Marcus to return with the small treasure Heather expected him to have in hand, or for the Merfolk to haul the People's body back to the shore with an explanation, an apology, both, or neither.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

Why had they given him the treasure chest? He had no need of it, not that they would know that. But why hadn’t Lady Heather or one of her other people come and gotten it? Was there more, or was this it?

Pointing at the ship and then the chest he shrugged his shoulders. Was there more? Was this it?​

 

[Alice2015]

The Mermaid understood what the People was indicating. She took the small box back, let it fall to the sandy ocean bottom, and moved to Marcus, again wrapping her arms around his torso to fill his lungs with air. After three separate exhalations into his mouth, she turned and swam toward the ship, waving him to follow.

Inside with him following behind, she gave him a moment to adjust to the darker interior. She waited for his reaction to what lay inside the hulk: a dozen open chests filled with more of what Marcus had just held. Most of the containers were only partially full; what Marcus couldn't know was that this wreck was Lady Heather's Sea Bank and had been funding her life, the prosperity of Little Gull Rock, and the beginnings of the Quest to put the Imperial Princess back on the Throne, where she would once again bring peace to the Creatures who yearned for her support, Creatures such as the Merfolk, who had been one of her Grandfather's most important allies.

The Mermaid moved to Marcus again, pumping his lungs full, then swam out of the hulk. They were done here; she'd done what Heather had wanted. It was time for the Mermen to get the Guardsman back to shore.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

Collecting the small chest and a second one, Marcus strained to reach the surface, his lungs burning as he breached the surface and inhaled sea air. Swimming with only his legs was hard but needed to be done.

With the sea folk helping he made it to shore in good time, though his arms and legs were exhausted. If he’d done this himself he’d have lost half, if not more, of what he’d rescued.

Pushing the chests onto the beach they dug into the sand as he collapsed on his back. It felt like he’d run for miles. But he’d survived. He assumed the stuff wass for her, since he had no use for it beyond a few immediate needs, and even then this was more than a lifetimes income for him.​

 

[Alice2015]

"There!" Brittany hollered out, pointing to the sandy beach some hundred and fifty yards away. "There he is!"

Heather followed her Handmaid's gesture and found four figures bobbing in the ocean, just beyond the breaking surf. She turned to run, remembering after just a single step that she was on rough rock in bared feet. She looked to Sir Herbert, who was already in action; he rushed to her, turned, knelt, and lifted her onto his back. For being as old as he was, he was quite strong and spry, and in no time at all they'd descended from the trail in the rocks to the sand.

Heather urged him to let her down, then -- pulling her shift up to her knees -- ran down the beach with Brittany at her side, holding her hand and giggling. Her Bodyguard turned back, though, intending on retrieving the discarded clothing and other gear.

Arriving at his location, Heather first addressed the Merfolk who'd both looked out for Marcus and showed him something he would never have expected to see; she made some meaningful hand gestures -- the only way People and Merfolk could communicate -- to which the Mermaid responded. Then, just as quickly as they'd shown earlier, they were gone, disappearing beneath the sea's surface.

Brittany was the first to tend to Marcus, hurrying to his side, dropping on her knees, and lifting his head into her lap. "Are you okay, Mister Stormbow? You aren't going to die on us are you?" Then, leaning down and kissing him on the cheek, she smiled wide and practically purred, "You were so brave."

Heather couldn't help but smile as well, though, her reason for finding this humorous was that she knew how badly her Handmaid wanted to get naked and straddle the new Bodyguard's waist while taking him in and out of her. Heather would have found it ironic that Brittany felt the same way about Marcus as he felt about her.

"Yes, you were very brave, Marcus," Heather agreed. She looked to the chests to which the man had somehow managed to cling as the Mermen swam him to the shore. She explained, "The wreck from which those coins, gemstones, and jewels come was once the Miracle. It belonged to my grandfather, Emperor Askari the Generous. He was the first Emperor, and he was a protector of the Creatures. He struggled his entire life ... as a Noble, then a King, then an Emperor ... to protect the Creatures from People who only wanted to eradicate them and take control of the wealth that had been theirs for hundreds, thousands, maybe tens of thousands of years.

"Despite being the most powerful leader the World had ever seen," she continued, "he knew it was hopeless. Greed is a powerful thing, Marcus. So ... he began shipping some of his wealth away from Frenk to various secret locations ... wealth that he hoped would one day be used by someone who shared his goals for a peaceful, prosperous, joined existence of People and Creatures.

"This particular cache of wealth ... we call it the Sea Bank," she continued with a playful smirk, "The Miracle did not sink here by accident ... in a storm or on a shoal. No, it was sunk here intentionally, to be watched over by the Merfolk."

Heather looked over her shoulder to see Sir Herbert arriving with the discarded things. Brittany rose to retrieve her Lady's things, while Sir Herbert moved to Marcus to give him his own possessions; the older Bodyguard nodded respectfully to the younger one, saying with obvious respect, "Welcome to the Quest."

As Brittany aided her in dressing once more, Heather continued, "I take gold and gems from the Sea Bank to finance intelligence gathering and other operations intended to set the path for my return to the Throne and -- far more importantly -- the protection of the Creatures to whom this World originally belonged."

She leaned down to grasp a handful of gold coins, stepped forward, and slipped them into one of Marcus's uniform pockets. She saw his reaction, and she understood it. "You have taken a vow of poverty, yes...? This is not for you ... not solely. This is for you to use as you see fit to help me--"

Heather looked to Brittany and Sir Herbert, then back to Marcus, continuing, "--to help us ... and all the others who have already joined the Quest. You will find opportunities to collect intelligence ... you will need to bribe people ... you will need to purchase weapons or other needs. I need you to be able to do these things, which is why you will take this coin."

"We should go, M'Lady," Sir Herbert said, seeing that Brittany had finished redressing Heather. "We do not want anyone seeing us down here like this."

"Of course," she responded, before turning back to Marcus. She smiled, asking, "Are you ready for an adventure, Mister Stormbow?"

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

Frown Marcus allowed her to shove the coins into his pocket, mostly cause he was still mostly naked. Moving behind the horse he pulled off his small shorts and wrung the water from them before he got dressed again.

Pulling the coins from the jacket he figured what he could get especially if he told the blacksmith he was leaving town. Permanently. The discount would get him everything, and allow him to donate to the temple.

Seeing everyone else was already mounted, he mounted his own horse. Riding back he kept his own council, his thoughts his own. Once they’d reached the castle he shifted away. “I need to get supplies, and gear. I’ll be ready when you call upon me.” He spoke to Lady Heather, but he was looking at her maid, Brittany. no lady would ever take him to her bed, not an orphan. But a ladies Maid, he a chance.​

 

[Alice2015]

The ride back to Heather's home was made in near silence; there was a great deal on the minds of each of the participants of the morning's activities.

“I need to get supplies, and gear," Marcus said once they'd reached the cliffside castle's outer gate. "I’ll be ready when you call upon me.”

"Please report back here at sunrise three days hence," Sir Herbert ordered. "You will need to have your personal affairs settled by then, so as to enable you to dedicate yourself to the Quest."

By your personal affairs, Sir Herbert was referring mainly to two topics: debts and relationships, particularly sexual and romantic ones. Herbert didn't believe that Marcus had either, not based upon his dedication to the Order of the Shining Path. But he'd still given the order because Lady Heather had asked him to do so. She didn't know the Order and its members as well as her Bodyguard did; she didn't understand the dedication and commitment Marcus had given the organization that had raised him essentially since birth.

"Thank you, Marcus," Heather tossed out as he was about to turn away to leave. She stepped up closer to him to emphasize her appreciation -- Noblewomen didn't approach peasant servants in this way normally -- and told him with a sincere tone, "You will play a vital role in our Quest. I feel it." Thank you for trusting me ... for trusting in me."

She turned to enter her house, followed by her Bodyguard, but Brittany remained in place, looking longingly at the man. She, too, stepped closer to Marcus, looking nervous. When he looked to her, she diverted her eyes, blushed, and giggled softly. Looking back up to him, she said in a soft tone, "I am happy to have met you today, Marcus. I ... it was ... what I mean is..."

Brittany wasn't sure what she was trying to say, other than I want to go to bed with you, and I don't want to wait three days hence as that old bastard said. She was fiddling with the leather and lace bracelet on her wrist, a trinket that had been one of her first purchases upon her and Heather's arrival at Little Gull Rock almost 13 years ago.

Stepping up close to Marcus, she untied the bracelet's leather thong from around her wrist and held it out before her in both hands close to the man. Tentatively, she said, "I am no Lady ... no Princess or Empress. I am but a Handmaid ... a servant..."

Brittany was trying to ask Marcus to wear her bracelet, to take it as a sign that perhaps they might be something more than simply Quest mates ... but the words simply weren't coming to her. She wasn't a virgin; she wasn't a pure woman. She wasn't what most men wanted as a wife. Sure, a bedmate she could be, had been often, and likely would be often in the future.

But while at this moment she wanted nothing more than to feel Marcus's cock ramming in and out of her yearning pussy, Brittany saw something more in Marcus than simply another fuck. She'd only known him now for four, five hours. And yet there was something about him that told her he was the type of man with whom she would love to spend her life.

Of course, she was still just a Handmaid, a Lady in Waiting. Any future she might have was to be determined and decided upon by her Lady. Brittany's first duty was to Heather, not just because Heather was the heir to the Frenkish Throne but because she was also her oldest and dearest friend and had a destiny that had to be fulfilled.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

“I would be honored to wear your token, Brittany. May I serve it, and you, justly in the future.” Holding out his wrist he let her tie it in place. “Sir Herbert, I will remain in the temple this evening and make all preparations. Henceforth I’ll be resting at the Poor Bard Inn, if any of you have need of me before our assigned meeting.”

it was the only place that didn’t have a daughter or wife that wanted to occupy his time. It was nice enough there, clean, and non-violent. But the wife was more than happy with her husband, and she’d only had sons.

Not that he’d even thought about warming that bed. She looked more like someone's great grand than any energetic filly.

Now Brittany on the other hand, she was energetic enough, but could she handle the ride, that was the truer question.

Now to separate from the Order, in a manner they would allow. And then the City Guard.​

 

[Alice2015]

“I would be honored to wear your token, Brittany," Marcus said, offering out his wrist.

She smiled with delight at his acceptance of the bracelet and set to tying it in place. She was slight in comparison to him, of course, and she barely had enough length in the thong to secure it around his more manly wrist.

"May I serve it, and you, justly in the future,” he told her.

Again, Brittany smiled, taking a small step backward. Marcus told Sir Herbert of his plans for the evening, identifying the place where he would be laying his head at the end of the day. Brittany wasn't familiar with the Poor Bard Inn, but she was certain that if she asked around, she could find someone who knew where it was.

The question, of course, was whether Marcus had named his destination for Sir Herbert's benefit ... or for hers. She hoped it was the latter, of course; she hoped that he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him.

Brittany watched the newest member of the Quest mount his horse, shoot her one last look, turn, and ride away. She stood there until he had disappeared down the road, finally turning to follow her already absent Lady into the cliffside home -- only to find herself almost running headlong into her Lady's Personal Bodyguard.

"Keep your head about you, Lady Brittany," the older man warned with a soft tone. "Your first duty--"

"Is to M'Lady," Brittany cut in, finishing, "I know this, Sir Herbert."

The man could have continued his lecture in regards to her duty and her needs, but instead he simply stepped aside to free her path back to the house, her Lady, and her duties. Brittany passed by without another word, heading directly to Heather's bed chamber. There, she helped her friend out of her clothing and into a bath, already prepared by the Chamber Maid.

"Join me, Brittany," Heather requested. "I want to talk to you about our new friend."

The Chamber Maid helped Brittany out of her clothing, and the Handmaid joined her Lady in the tub of steaming water. Bathing together was not uncommon for the pair; they'd been splashing together in tubs since they were 3 years old. Of course, their little girl bodies had changed over the years until each of them had developed delicious curves in their bosoms, waists, and buttocks.

Curiosity had led to more than simply soaking in hot water on which rose petals floated and oils softened skin, though. The two had leaned the pleasure of touch at each other's hands, both in their baths and in their beds. They loved each other deeply, but they didn't consider one another lovers per se. They were simply the best of friends who, at times, used their fingers and lips and tongues to drive the other to the greatest heights of ecstasy one could enjoy.

"Are you going to go to Marcus's bed?" Heather asked bluntly after her naked friend had joined her in the large tub. Seeing Brittany blush, she pointed out what her friend had already noticed, "He seems to be well capable of providing you with what you need."

Brittany laughed and splashed water at her friend. "Having a big sword and knowing how to use it are two different things."

"I wouldn't know," Heather reminded the other young woman, "Would I?"

"Why is that?" Brittany asked. She knew the answer, of course, yet asked the question anyway. Before Heather could answer, Brittany did: "Because the Witch told you ... told you that you would only succeed in your Quest if you were as pure of body as you are pure of spirit."

Heather said nothing in return. She often wondered whether the Witch's words were literal or not. They'd been spoken to her so many years ago, and sometimes -- particularly when her body's natural yearning for the company of a man was too much -- Heather tried to convince herself that she'd misunderstood, that she'd been holding out all these years based on a fallacy.

"I will stay here with you tonight, M'Lady," Brittany said. She moved across the tub, pressing her naked form against her Lady's equal bared body until they were essentially one. Kissing Heather softly, then more erotically, she whispered, "Marcus can wait."

They would make love to one another there in the hot, oily water, then again in Heather's bed, each driving the other to orgasm before drifting off to sleep the afternoon away. Only when the sun was threatening to disappear behind the sea to the west did they rise to eat and discuss the morning's activities with Sir Herbert, who'd spent the day speaking with what he called his Birdies, a variety of intelligence sources who gathered information from all across the world and brought that news here, typically under the guise of performing trade.

"We might have a new contact," Sir Herbert informed Heather once the uninformed servants had left the terrace from which the trio watched the sun disappearing. He added with a tone of mystery, "An Elven contact."

Heather literally sat up in her seat, her eyes wide with excitement. "An Elf?"

"Yes, M'Lady," her Bodyguard confirmed. "In the wetlands, near Lux, between the Western Shore and the Great Steppe." (map of the world)

"How did this come to be?" Brittany asked, equally surprised. "The Elves ... they don't like People. Not that most Creatures do, but ... you know what I mean." (OOC: Elf info)

"She knows of you, M'Lady," Sir Herbert said, speaking to Heather. "She's heard of your Quest. She wishes to help ... if we can prove ourselves as trustworthy."

"How do we do that?" Heather asked.

Sir Herbert's lips spread in a knowing smile. "We go there."

"To Lux?" Brittany asked with obvious surprise.

"Our first mission," Heather murmured, more to herself than to the others. Looking to her Bodyguard, she asked, "When?"

"Soon as we can," he answered. "Soon as we can."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

Moving through the crowd, his identity hidden by helm and armor. He’d hoped to meet with Brittany but that hadn’t happened. Instead he’d spent the night alone.

After leaving the Lady and her people he’d spoken with the weaponsmith and the armorer of the Temple. The local man was good with plows, knives, shovels, and pots but he was horrible with a sword or armor.

The temple had accepted his gift and supplied him with Sword, Shield, Armour and Horse. He still had most of what The Lady had given him. His saddlebags carried clothing, field tack, and a few other things.

Collecting the horse ‘Far Strider’ from the stables and ‘Fang’ from the huntsman he stopped at one of the taverns he’d often frequented in his foolhardy times. A single coin later, without any words spoken, and he was on his way.

When he arrived at her residence the guard at the door said nothing, asked nothing, he simply stood there. But at least he took the reins, though the look he gave Fang was less than trustworthy.

Sliding down Marcus walked inside, his sword had been wrapped with thread to prevent it being drawn. Walking inside with Fang at his side he found a lot of activity, far more than he expected. When he saw The Lady, he walked over and knelt. His sword ripping free as he held it for her to wield. The sacred vows sounding in the sudden silence of the room. If she doubted his vow, she had full authority, right, and duty to take his head.

“I, Marcus Stormbow, swear to serve and obey you, Lady Heather, as my liege and sovereign lord. I pledge to uphold your rights and defend your lands, to be faithful and loyal to you until the end of my days.”

When she didn’t cut his head off he slid the sword back into it’s sheath and re-wrapped it with golden thread. His vow was made and accepted.

Standing up he shifted to a wall, the shield on his back, his duty was clear, at least to him. Protect her, the handmaiden, and the Knight in that order. Fang took up his place below his right hand.​

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

Standing before the Master of the Temple Marcus explained as best he could that he’d accepted a position as the Lady’s bodyguard, but that he’d still hold to the tenets of beliefs of the Order of the Shining Path.

When the Master of the Sword, also known as the Sergeant-at-Arms, put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to one knee, Marcus got nervous. Were they breaking with him? Was he to be outcast? Ronin and Rogue? Friendless and without allies in the walk to come?

“Do you, Marcus Stormbow swear to be brave in battle, to defend the weak and oppressed, to be loyal to their lord, and to uphold the values of honor and chivalry?”

“I so swear,” Marcus replied from his knee.

“Do you vow to face all enemies with courage and determination?”

“I so swear,”

“Do you vow to serve your Lord, or Lady, and uphold their interests above and before your own?”

“I so swear,”

Fuck was this happening? Was this really happening? He’d never fought in battle, or squired in combat.

“Do you vow to behave honorably at all times and to uphold the values of chivalry, even in the face of adversity?”

“I so swear,”

“Do you vow to show respect and kindness to others, especially women, and to behave in a gentlemanly manner?”

“I so swear,”

“Do you vow to uphold the value’s of, and behave in a manner appropriate, to a member of the Order of the Shining Path?”

“I so swear,”

“Do you vow to be fair and stay your blade when possible, to be impartial and to uphold the principles of Justice and Righteousness?”

“I so swear,”

“Do you vow to uphold the values of chivalry and to protect the weak and defenseless?”

“I so swear,”

“Rise, Sir Marcus Stormbow, Knight Errant of the Order of the Shining Path.”

When he’d returned the following morning he was gifted with Horse and Spurs, Sword, Shield, Armor. According to the code he could not buy them, but instead he gifted the armorer, the Sergeant-at-Arms and the Stable-master each with a coin from his pocket.

A knight could never expect such gifts, or require them. But a lord, or Master of a Temple was responsible for all that dwelt under his roof, either for good or bad.​

 

[Alice2015]

Brittany was standing in the window of her bed chamber when movement on the walkway below caught her attention. Her heart leapt with joy at the sight of a pair of the Gate Guards escorting Marcus Stormbow toward the house. She slipped into her shoes and ran for the Main Hall, arriving just as the latest subject of her lustful dreams was entering and approaching Heather, who was sitting in her chair -- some called it a throne -- upon the dais at the head of the room.

He struck the appropriate pose and swore his oath to his Lady. Heather, holding the man's new, more impressive blade, held its tip out over his right shoulder, then his left, then his head. She said nothing initially, not until she turned the sword and held it before him in the fingers of both hands, just as he had moments earlier.

Only then did Heather say simply, "Rise, Sir Stormbow."

Taking back his sword, Marcus moved to the wall, his dog staying close to his side. Brittany moved to stand at her Lady's side. Some might have thought there was a comparison between Marcus and Fang and Heather and Brittany. They would have been right and wrong at the same time.

Heather looked around the room, taking a moment to make eye contact with each and every person there. In addition to Brittany, Sir Herbert, and Marcus Stormbow, there were 12 additional Guardsmen and 12 other servants, from Smithies to Squires to Common Laborers.

Only a handful of them knew the whole truth of the Quest: Brittany, Sir Herbert, and Marcus, of course, as well as the two Guard Sergeants and two Laborers who, in truth, were Intelligence Officers. The rest simply believed that their Lady was striking out on an adventure and that they were lucky enough to play a part in it.

"Little Gull Rock has been your home for most if not all your life," Heather said to no one in particular but all of them together. "You leave it today, knowing that you may never return to it again. If in doubt ... if you feel any sense of hesitation, of regret ... now is the time to speak up. No one would blame you. I will not blame you if you choose to remain behind."

Heather scanned the room and found nothing indicating that even one of them had a moment's hesitation. This didn't surprise her. Each of these people had lived the past many years knowing that this day was coming and, in most cases, yearning for it to come.

"Then ... let's away to the boat," she said before heading confidently down the dais and toward the World beyond her little island home...

.....................
​

The Destiny was fully loaded and ready to set sail the moment Heather mounted the plank and stepped aboard. Ironically, the design of the craft had barely changed over the thousand years that People had been using them to sail first to the New World and later all about it.

The Commanding Officer, Captain Paulo, had volunteered his Captain's Quarters to Lady Heather. She'd initially refused the offer, saying she would take one of the smaller cabins normally occupied by the First Mate or Quartermaster. He'd demanded she take the larger space, threatening to step away from command if she didn't take it. She'd accepted the offer reluctantly.

Standing on the Forecastle Deck, Heather listened to the Captain barking orders and watched the Crew responding to them. The Destiny was crewed by highly experienced merchantmen, 28 Officers and Crew who'd been together a minimum of 12 years; some of the more experienced sailors had been with Captain Paulo as long as two decades.

They weren't just merchantmen, though. The crew included trained Guardsmen and even former pirates. If the ship came into conflict with another vessel, Captain Paulo had confidence in his crew's ability to defend not just the ship but the precious cargo it carried, the Heir to the Frenkish Empire.

Sails unfurled and filled with air, the rush pushing the vessel away from the dock. On shore, hundreds of families, friends, and everyday citizens unconnected to either the ship's occupants or the Quest cheered and waved banners, cried and tossed flowers into the bay. Boats of all sizes and uses -- fishers, crabbers, and more merchants -- floated about nearby or were anchored with their occupants sending the Destiny off.

Heather took one last look back toward the cliffs, toward her home of the last 13 years. She doubted that she would ever see it again, the house, the town, or the island.

"M'Lady...?" Brittany spoke from nearby. Heather turned with tears in her eyes. The Handmaid asked, "Do you wish to go back? It's not too late. We can go back."

Heather's lips spread in a smile of delight. "No. We can't. I can't. I won't!"

The Lady gestured for an embrace from her Handmaid, and after they'd hugged each other tightly, they descended to the main deck, then further aft to the Main Cabin in which Heather and Brittany would be living for an undetermined number of days or months, maybe years.

"Please have Sergeant Stormbow come to my cabin," Heather told Sir Herbert as she passed by him.

"Sergeant?" Herbert asked, surprised at only now hearing about the promotion of the Guardsman.

"Yes ... Sergeant," Heather confirmed. "Please bring him to my cabin."

A few minutes later, Herbert and Marcus arrived, followed by Captain Paulo, who'd been asked to attend and who also knew of the Quest. Brittany poured tea for all from a pot heating over a small coal stove in the corner. Heather explained, "We are sailing west from the Golden Isles to the South Delta of the Great Steppe River, then up the River to a town named...?"

"Delta," Paulo said. He shrugged, saying, "Not very colorful a name, but it is what it is." Gesturing a finger to the map on the desk that was normally his but was now Heather's, he explained, "The Great Steppe River is deep, but floods sometimes change the river bottom ... shifting the gravel spits ... leaving submerged trees in the channel. We should be fine. The Destiny is a good ship, crewed by fine men. And we will pick up Pilots along the way if necessary."

"Once we reach this Delta," Heather continued, looking to her Personal Bodyguard, "Sir Herbert, Sergeant Stormbow, and the Guardsman Squad Leaders will lead us all into the wetlands, where we will meet a new contact that has information that is vital to the success of our Quest."

Heather looked about the faces, asking, "Questions?"

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

​

Marcus:
He hadn’t been told they’d be going by boat. Granted he could swim, but swimming was far different than drowning in deep water. And then of course.. sharks.

Nice thing about helmets, no one could see his reactions or tell what he was thinking. “Do we have any tactical information about natives in the region? Any information on potential enemies or allies?” Marcus asked as Fang shoved his way forward and sat at his feet. “Is Delta allied to us? Are there potential hostiles in the town or people that would like this to end before it starts?”​

 

[Alice2015]

“Do we have any tactical information about natives in the region?" Marcus asked. "Any information on potential enemies or allies?”

Heather looked to her Personal Bodyguard, asking, "What are your little Birdies tweeting to you, Sir Herbert?"

"The Barons of Lux and Lotha -- the nearest Cities to our destination -- are members of the League of Barons," Herbert responded, speaking at Marcus but to them all. Now looking to Heather but again speaking to the group, he continued, "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know when I tell you that the League was responsible for the collapse of the Frenkish Empire ... responsible for your father's death ... and subsequently for the Purge of Creatures."

The Purge was well known to some and not to others. The People responsible for the eradication of vast numbers of Creatures of all types all across the World had later done their best to erase the Purge from history. They didn't do it because they felt any guilt for the mass slayings; they simply wanted the People over whom they had control to forget that Creatures had ever existed.

"We have the advantage of surprise, though," Herbert told them with confidence. "We are travelers ... traders ... adventurers. If we walk quietly ... talk quietly ... there will be no reason for anyone of importance to show us any undue attention."

“Is Delta allied to us?" Marcus continued his inquiry. "Are there potential hostiles in the town or people that would like this to end before it starts?”

"We have friends there," Heather responded. "As Sir Herbert has said, we need to be cautious. But I do not expect trouble in Delta."

There was a knock on the door, to which Heather called out, "Enter."

The door opened, and the huntress from days earlier stepped into the doorway. Heather greeted her, then -- seeing how white the woman's face was -- asked, "Are you well, Rachel?"

The woman nodded her head ... then shook her head ... then turned and rushed away forward. A moment later, the sounds of retching reached the others. Heather signaled her Handmaid to tend to the woman, then said to the others, "She's never been on a boat, I've been told."

Looking back to Marcus and his dog, Heather asked, "Does your friend need any particular accommodations, Sergeant? I'm sure we can find him a soft bed somewhere."

She listened to Marcus's response, then turned her attention to the huntress as she once again returned. Rachel apologized for her weakness. "I am told I will gain sea legs, M'Lady ... not that I know what that means."

Heather broke up the get-together, inviting everyone back for a meal at sundown. To the ship's CO, she asked, "You have accommodations for my Staff?"

"Yes, M'Lady," Captain Paulo answered.

He turned to leave, inviting that staff to follow him. Just fore of the Captain's Cabin, flanking the main passage, were smaller cabins that had either been intended for the vessel's senior staff -- First Mate, Quartermaster, Boatswain -- or for guests, who sometimes used the Destiny to travel between ports. He left it up to Heather's people to select their own sleeping quarters.