The Tiefling's Tales
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baby1111007
- Dragon Rider
- Posts: 878
- Joined: Fri Sep 22, 2006 9:33 pm
- Location: cooking up a storm in the kitchens
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Lord Zhengyi
- Dasarian
- Posts: 162
- Joined: Thu Feb 22, 2007 3:44 am
Lucy’s head was pounding. The warm trickle of fresh blood rolled over her skin like thousands of tiny ants, dripping from her fingertips and leaking into her eyes and up her nose as she swung upside-down from the branch of a large oak tree. Her feet had gone completely numb, and she snorted repeatedly to clear the pooling blood from her nasal passages. The laughing and jokes of the men surrounding her were drowned out by the pounding of her own heart in her ears. They were all dressed in plate armor and donned red tunics. Two of the men carried halberds, the others wielded clubs. Looking towards the ground, she could see hundreds of crimson droplets staining the leaves and grass. New drops fell every few seconds, making a faint, almost inaudible tapping noise in the soil.
Looking past her captors’ legs, the old stone building she had called home since she was a child lie several dozen yards away, smoldering and collapsing as roaring flames leaped from the windows and doorway. Her lips trembled as the sounds of cracking beams and glass shattering echoed across the meadow surrounding the estate. The blood on the ground beneath her became mixed with tears. She struggled to shake herself loose from the noose around her ankles, but to no avail. Each time she did, the knot grew tighter.
“Well, well…I think she’s still got some fight left in her!” one of the men shouted joyfully. The others began cheering and making lewd remarks.
A sudden cry from the house drew the men’s attention. Two more men dragged a beaten and bloody old man from the entrance, dropping him on the ground in a heap. The old man coughed and clawed at the ground wearily. One of the men kicked the bearded elder in the ribs with a wicked smile.
“Did you think you could hide her forever?” the second man growled, leaning over the beaten captive. “I guess you thought wrong, didn’t you? Now you will pay the price for harboring half-blood heathens!”
The old man weakly raised his head, straining under the enormous pain he felt, and looked straight at Lucy with a deep sadness. Shaking to keep his head upright, he silently mouthed the words: “I’m sorry” before his head fell to the ground lifelessly.
Lucy closed her eyes as tightly as she could and balled her fists so tightly her palms began to bleed. Her whole body shook, and she snorted rapidly trying to fight back tears welling up inside her. She didn’t want to give these bastards the satisfaction. Slowly her eyes opened, and her face became an expressionless mask. She was calm, and swung from the tree in a relaxed and seemingly unworried posture.
“Guess it’s your turn next, half-blood,” one of the men sneered.
“Take your best shot, you gutless sissy,” Lucy snorted back, spitting a glob of bloody saliva on the man’s boots. He growled and reared back with his club, swinging it ferociously at Lucy’s head…
* * * * *
“LUCY!” Rhode shouted, waving his hand in front of the tiefling’s face. “Wot’s th’ matter with yas babe? Ya off somewheres else agains?”
Lucy blinked a few times, shaking her head as her sight returned to the city gates of North Cear.
“Oh, sorry hun. Yeah, I was daydreamin again.”
After a trying ordeal with Rhode’s poison-induced nightmares, the two had managed to patch things up and were spending a great deal of time together. Rhode had brought her gifts earlier that day, and Lucy could not remember a time when she was happier.
“Well ya gonna shows dat book ta th’ guard so wes cans gits paids?”
She glanced over at Rhode, then back at the city gates. A small crowd was gathered by the entrance, centered on a man who wore plate armor and a red tunic. She tried to step forward, but her legs were frozen in place. Her pulse quickened, and she dug her nails into the book she was carrying.
“See that man by the gates?” Lucy whispered.
“Wot about em?” Rhode replied.
“That’s the creep I told ya about. Mennuto er whatever his name is..”
Rhode glanced to the city gates. “Oh, dat feller. Don worries babes, Is be rights heres if’n he gives yas troubles.”
Lucy nodded and took a deep breath. She slowly managed to approach the gate as she gripped the leather tome in her hands. Her eyes remained fixed on the armored man by the city entrance. He seemed to be giving some sort of sermon, and had the attention of several townsfolk. As she neared the gates, her legs grew stiff again, and she could see several people in the crowd shooting her an angry gaze. She wasn’t sure if she could continue.
Suddenly, a shout from the cleric startled her, and she almost dropped the book. “Stop! Stop that man! He’s stealing from a priest!”
Scurrying from the scene was a halfling in a brown cloak, followed closely by the armored cleric who gave chase with an outstretched finger. “Stop at once blasphemer!”
Lucy couldn’t help but smirk, and she quickly jogged to the guard post and collected her fee. In the background, she could hear the commotion created by the brazen robbery. She returned to Rhode wearing a large grin.
“Wot’s th’ grin fers?” he asked, grinning back.
Looking back towards the city, she chuckled a bit and pointed at the halfling still being pursued by an angry mob.
Rhode grinned mischievously and spit from under the brim of his straw hat. “Yeah, I knew dat feller’d come ins handy.”
Lucy quickly shifted her gaze to Rhode, who was still grinning ear to ear. At that moment, her icy heart melted a few drops. She circled behind him, sliding her arms around his waist, and whispered in his ear. “Ya did that fer me?”
Rhode just kept grinning.
Lucy rested her head on his shoulder.
“Aww Rhode, that’s so romantic..”
Looking past her captors’ legs, the old stone building she had called home since she was a child lie several dozen yards away, smoldering and collapsing as roaring flames leaped from the windows and doorway. Her lips trembled as the sounds of cracking beams and glass shattering echoed across the meadow surrounding the estate. The blood on the ground beneath her became mixed with tears. She struggled to shake herself loose from the noose around her ankles, but to no avail. Each time she did, the knot grew tighter.
“Well, well…I think she’s still got some fight left in her!” one of the men shouted joyfully. The others began cheering and making lewd remarks.
A sudden cry from the house drew the men’s attention. Two more men dragged a beaten and bloody old man from the entrance, dropping him on the ground in a heap. The old man coughed and clawed at the ground wearily. One of the men kicked the bearded elder in the ribs with a wicked smile.
“Did you think you could hide her forever?” the second man growled, leaning over the beaten captive. “I guess you thought wrong, didn’t you? Now you will pay the price for harboring half-blood heathens!”
The old man weakly raised his head, straining under the enormous pain he felt, and looked straight at Lucy with a deep sadness. Shaking to keep his head upright, he silently mouthed the words: “I’m sorry” before his head fell to the ground lifelessly.
Lucy closed her eyes as tightly as she could and balled her fists so tightly her palms began to bleed. Her whole body shook, and she snorted rapidly trying to fight back tears welling up inside her. She didn’t want to give these bastards the satisfaction. Slowly her eyes opened, and her face became an expressionless mask. She was calm, and swung from the tree in a relaxed and seemingly unworried posture.
“Guess it’s your turn next, half-blood,” one of the men sneered.
“Take your best shot, you gutless sissy,” Lucy snorted back, spitting a glob of bloody saliva on the man’s boots. He growled and reared back with his club, swinging it ferociously at Lucy’s head…
* * * * *
“LUCY!” Rhode shouted, waving his hand in front of the tiefling’s face. “Wot’s th’ matter with yas babe? Ya off somewheres else agains?”
Lucy blinked a few times, shaking her head as her sight returned to the city gates of North Cear.
“Oh, sorry hun. Yeah, I was daydreamin again.”
After a trying ordeal with Rhode’s poison-induced nightmares, the two had managed to patch things up and were spending a great deal of time together. Rhode had brought her gifts earlier that day, and Lucy could not remember a time when she was happier.
“Well ya gonna shows dat book ta th’ guard so wes cans gits paids?”
She glanced over at Rhode, then back at the city gates. A small crowd was gathered by the entrance, centered on a man who wore plate armor and a red tunic. She tried to step forward, but her legs were frozen in place. Her pulse quickened, and she dug her nails into the book she was carrying.
“See that man by the gates?” Lucy whispered.
“Wot about em?” Rhode replied.
“That’s the creep I told ya about. Mennuto er whatever his name is..”
Rhode glanced to the city gates. “Oh, dat feller. Don worries babes, Is be rights heres if’n he gives yas troubles.”
Lucy nodded and took a deep breath. She slowly managed to approach the gate as she gripped the leather tome in her hands. Her eyes remained fixed on the armored man by the city entrance. He seemed to be giving some sort of sermon, and had the attention of several townsfolk. As she neared the gates, her legs grew stiff again, and she could see several people in the crowd shooting her an angry gaze. She wasn’t sure if she could continue.
Suddenly, a shout from the cleric startled her, and she almost dropped the book. “Stop! Stop that man! He’s stealing from a priest!”
Scurrying from the scene was a halfling in a brown cloak, followed closely by the armored cleric who gave chase with an outstretched finger. “Stop at once blasphemer!”
Lucy couldn’t help but smirk, and she quickly jogged to the guard post and collected her fee. In the background, she could hear the commotion created by the brazen robbery. She returned to Rhode wearing a large grin.
“Wot’s th’ grin fers?” he asked, grinning back.
Looking back towards the city, she chuckled a bit and pointed at the halfling still being pursued by an angry mob.
Rhode grinned mischievously and spit from under the brim of his straw hat. “Yeah, I knew dat feller’d come ins handy.”
Lucy quickly shifted her gaze to Rhode, who was still grinning ear to ear. At that moment, her icy heart melted a few drops. She circled behind him, sliding her arms around his waist, and whispered in his ear. “Ya did that fer me?”
Rhode just kept grinning.
Lucy rested her head on his shoulder.
“Aww Rhode, that’s so romantic..”
Lucy: Geez that ogre hits hard! But in some strange way, I like it...
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Mon-da-oth
- Forum Troll
- Posts: 2013
- Joined: Sat Sep 23, 2006 2:21 am
- Main Player Character: Rhode Wraigh
- Other PCs: Reginald Schudotter
- Location: Edgewood, MD
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Lord Zhengyi
- Dasarian
- Posts: 162
- Joined: Thu Feb 22, 2007 3:44 am
“Come now Lucindra, remember what I told you. Tip forward, shoulders square...”
Lucy clutched the blade unsteadily in her right hand as beads of sweat tumbled down her purplish skin. Her hair was matted to her face in thick, damp strands, and the tip of her sword shook slightly. Several paces away, a lanky man with long brown hair and worn leather armor faced her confidently. He was young, obviously educated, and handsome, but had a certain devious nature to him that made him a bit of an enigma in Lucy’s eyes. Even stranger still was the fact he lived alone in a wooden hut in the forest. Lucy could not understand the reason for his voluntary solitude, but didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask him. He was kind, but stern, and did not hesitate to frequently remind Lucy that she was indebted to him.
The man circled her slowly. Each of his hands gripped a three foot wooden pole with numerous chips along their lengths, and his eyes focused intently on the young horned girl before him. Fainting to the right, the tiefling quickly cut left, thrusting the sword downward at her trainer’s exposed thigh. With a forceful slap of one stick, the man easily drove the sword tip into the ground, then swung across with the other stick, slamming it painfully into Lucy’s shoulder. She grunted and stumbled backwards, dropping the sword on the stone floor with a loud clang.
“This contest is unfair, master,” Lucy complained. “You hold two implements, and I have but one. You have an inherent advantage.”
The young man smirked, twirling the oaken shafts in his hands and pacing slowly to his right. “I hold but mere sticks, Lucindra. Any competent swordsman should be capable of chopping them into kindling. Besides, you will find in life that not every match you fight will be on even terms, my dear. If you can effectively defeat a man with two weapons using only one, then wielding two weapons of your own will render you formidable indeed.”
Lucy nodded, rubbing her shoulder in agony as she absorbed her instructor’s words. He was young, but wise beyond his years. Lucy owed him everything for saving her life when he discovered her swinging from the oak tree not far from his forest home. It took months for her to fully recover. In that time, he’d taught her a number of things, including how to set traps, hunt, cook, and of course, how to fight. Never once did he mention why he chose to save her that fateful day, and Lucy respected his decision to keep it private.
“Shall we try again?” he asked with a slightly wicked smile. Lucy nodded slowly and began reaching for the sword lying at her master’s feet.
“Excellent!” the ranger chuckled. “Then your next lesson will be never to expose the top of your head to your opponent!” The young man lunged forward, swinging downward with his left hand. Lucy barely reacted in time, but managed to shift left just as the oaken shaft whistled past her ear, thumping audibly on the cobbles covering the floor.
She dropped her shoulder and rolled left, scooping up the sword in one fluid motion as she rotated to a standing position, lowering the tip at her instructor’s neck.
“I’m impressed!” the ranger grinned. “Perhaps I underestimated you.”
“Never underestimate your opponent,” Lucy replied, her face cracking into a grin as she slowly circled left.
The young man broke into a hardy chuckle, nodding approvingly as he took a fighting stance, raising the twin clubs toward Lucy. “It is my sincere hope that you remember every lesson as effectively.”
Springing forward, he closed in quickly, swinging downward with his right hand while keeping his left raised in a defensive posture. Lucy parried the attack, thrusting her sword forward at his chest, only to have it slapped away effortlessly. A quick second strike hit her squarely in the ribs. She stumbled back under the force of the blow, leveling the sword tip towards him again. For several minutes they sparred, and each time Lucy attacked, she was frustrated by her trainer’s superior skill. Finally, she lowered her sword wearily, panting heavily as sweat poured down her face. The young woodsman grinned and took a step back, relaxing his stance slightly but keeping his weapons raised.
“I believe I’ve had enough for tonight, master. I’m exhausted, and my shoulder is beginning to swell.”
The man kept his gaze locked on the tiefling’s face, looking her up and down as she stood weakly, her chest heaving.
“Very well my dear,” he conceded. “Then we’ll conclude our session for the night with one final lesson.”
Lucy nodded and blinked a few times, awaiting her master’s wisdom.
“Never lower your guard to anyone…”
With that, he swung the oaken rod violently, knocking her unconscious.
• * * * *
Lucy’s eyes snapped open. She blinked several times, rubbing them slowly as her surroundings came into focus. Her throat was sore and her mouth carried a bitter taste that was almost unbearable. Her stomach felt like it was full of broken glass. Despite her discomfort, she was beginning to feel slightly better. The worst of it had passed. The night time air was thick with the smell of salt from the nearby sea. It seemed to help with the nausea. Lucy gazed outward as she perched upon a rooftop overlooking the nearby docks, scanning the distant horizon as the starlight twinkled over the open water. The faint ringing of ships’ bells played a peaceful tune in her ears, and she inhaled deeply through her nose as small gusts of ocean breeze fluttered her amber locks. Much had happened in the past few days, and some of it the young tiefling found difficult to absorb.
Like many of her thoughts in recent weeks, she considered her relationship with Rhode. Obviously, there was much he hadn’t told her, and undoubtedly, there was more he hadn’t revealed. She recalled the words of the man that recently approached her:
“What is it you want, Lucindra? What is life to you?”
She hadn’t answered him at the time. It was a very personal question, the answer to which she would rather die than share. However, the answer was quite simple, though Lucindra knew it was probably impossible for someone like her.
She began to question Rhode’s sincerity, recalling the lesson her former master had shared. Considering she’d recently learned how Rhode used to refer to her, the lesson began to ring true once again, as it had countless times in the past. What was more frightening, Lucy realized, was that each time she’d ignored the lesson she had come to regret it later.
Her mind swirled with doubt, uncertainty, and contemplation. The voice in her head reminded her that she hadn’t been entirely honest with Rhode either, and perhaps it was he who had a right to feel betrayed. Lucy rubbed her eyes again, letting out a quiet sigh as another cool breeze rolled gently across her face.
“Only time will tell, I suppose.”
She closed her eyes once again and listened to the ringing of ships’ bells.
Lucy clutched the blade unsteadily in her right hand as beads of sweat tumbled down her purplish skin. Her hair was matted to her face in thick, damp strands, and the tip of her sword shook slightly. Several paces away, a lanky man with long brown hair and worn leather armor faced her confidently. He was young, obviously educated, and handsome, but had a certain devious nature to him that made him a bit of an enigma in Lucy’s eyes. Even stranger still was the fact he lived alone in a wooden hut in the forest. Lucy could not understand the reason for his voluntary solitude, but didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask him. He was kind, but stern, and did not hesitate to frequently remind Lucy that she was indebted to him.
The man circled her slowly. Each of his hands gripped a three foot wooden pole with numerous chips along their lengths, and his eyes focused intently on the young horned girl before him. Fainting to the right, the tiefling quickly cut left, thrusting the sword downward at her trainer’s exposed thigh. With a forceful slap of one stick, the man easily drove the sword tip into the ground, then swung across with the other stick, slamming it painfully into Lucy’s shoulder. She grunted and stumbled backwards, dropping the sword on the stone floor with a loud clang.
“This contest is unfair, master,” Lucy complained. “You hold two implements, and I have but one. You have an inherent advantage.”
The young man smirked, twirling the oaken shafts in his hands and pacing slowly to his right. “I hold but mere sticks, Lucindra. Any competent swordsman should be capable of chopping them into kindling. Besides, you will find in life that not every match you fight will be on even terms, my dear. If you can effectively defeat a man with two weapons using only one, then wielding two weapons of your own will render you formidable indeed.”
Lucy nodded, rubbing her shoulder in agony as she absorbed her instructor’s words. He was young, but wise beyond his years. Lucy owed him everything for saving her life when he discovered her swinging from the oak tree not far from his forest home. It took months for her to fully recover. In that time, he’d taught her a number of things, including how to set traps, hunt, cook, and of course, how to fight. Never once did he mention why he chose to save her that fateful day, and Lucy respected his decision to keep it private.
“Shall we try again?” he asked with a slightly wicked smile. Lucy nodded slowly and began reaching for the sword lying at her master’s feet.
“Excellent!” the ranger chuckled. “Then your next lesson will be never to expose the top of your head to your opponent!” The young man lunged forward, swinging downward with his left hand. Lucy barely reacted in time, but managed to shift left just as the oaken shaft whistled past her ear, thumping audibly on the cobbles covering the floor.
She dropped her shoulder and rolled left, scooping up the sword in one fluid motion as she rotated to a standing position, lowering the tip at her instructor’s neck.
“I’m impressed!” the ranger grinned. “Perhaps I underestimated you.”
“Never underestimate your opponent,” Lucy replied, her face cracking into a grin as she slowly circled left.
The young man broke into a hardy chuckle, nodding approvingly as he took a fighting stance, raising the twin clubs toward Lucy. “It is my sincere hope that you remember every lesson as effectively.”
Springing forward, he closed in quickly, swinging downward with his right hand while keeping his left raised in a defensive posture. Lucy parried the attack, thrusting her sword forward at his chest, only to have it slapped away effortlessly. A quick second strike hit her squarely in the ribs. She stumbled back under the force of the blow, leveling the sword tip towards him again. For several minutes they sparred, and each time Lucy attacked, she was frustrated by her trainer’s superior skill. Finally, she lowered her sword wearily, panting heavily as sweat poured down her face. The young woodsman grinned and took a step back, relaxing his stance slightly but keeping his weapons raised.
“I believe I’ve had enough for tonight, master. I’m exhausted, and my shoulder is beginning to swell.”
The man kept his gaze locked on the tiefling’s face, looking her up and down as she stood weakly, her chest heaving.
“Very well my dear,” he conceded. “Then we’ll conclude our session for the night with one final lesson.”
Lucy nodded and blinked a few times, awaiting her master’s wisdom.
“Never lower your guard to anyone…”
With that, he swung the oaken rod violently, knocking her unconscious.
• * * * *
Lucy’s eyes snapped open. She blinked several times, rubbing them slowly as her surroundings came into focus. Her throat was sore and her mouth carried a bitter taste that was almost unbearable. Her stomach felt like it was full of broken glass. Despite her discomfort, she was beginning to feel slightly better. The worst of it had passed. The night time air was thick with the smell of salt from the nearby sea. It seemed to help with the nausea. Lucy gazed outward as she perched upon a rooftop overlooking the nearby docks, scanning the distant horizon as the starlight twinkled over the open water. The faint ringing of ships’ bells played a peaceful tune in her ears, and she inhaled deeply through her nose as small gusts of ocean breeze fluttered her amber locks. Much had happened in the past few days, and some of it the young tiefling found difficult to absorb.
Like many of her thoughts in recent weeks, she considered her relationship with Rhode. Obviously, there was much he hadn’t told her, and undoubtedly, there was more he hadn’t revealed. She recalled the words of the man that recently approached her:
“What is it you want, Lucindra? What is life to you?”
She hadn’t answered him at the time. It was a very personal question, the answer to which she would rather die than share. However, the answer was quite simple, though Lucindra knew it was probably impossible for someone like her.
She began to question Rhode’s sincerity, recalling the lesson her former master had shared. Considering she’d recently learned how Rhode used to refer to her, the lesson began to ring true once again, as it had countless times in the past. What was more frightening, Lucy realized, was that each time she’d ignored the lesson she had come to regret it later.
Her mind swirled with doubt, uncertainty, and contemplation. The voice in her head reminded her that she hadn’t been entirely honest with Rhode either, and perhaps it was he who had a right to feel betrayed. Lucy rubbed her eyes again, letting out a quiet sigh as another cool breeze rolled gently across her face.
“Only time will tell, I suppose.”
She closed her eyes once again and listened to the ringing of ships’ bells.
Lucy: Geez that ogre hits hard! But in some strange way, I like it...
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Lord Zhengyi
- Dasarian
- Posts: 162
- Joined: Thu Feb 22, 2007 3:44 am
The room was extremely dark, except for the dim light of single candle that illuminated a small area around an old wooden bed. The walls and ceiling were damp and made of stacked river stones, which occasionally dripped with condensation. The faint sound of a spoon stirring in a ceramic bowl woke Rhode from his uncomfortable sleep. His head was tightly bandaged, and one of his arms was in a makeshift splint. As his eyes slowly crept open, he could make out the silhouette of a robed figure stirring something in a small bowl.
“Wot th…” Rhode mumbled as he glanced around and strained to sit up.
“Shhhhh…” came a voice from under the large robe, as a gentle hand touched Rhode’s chest, pushing him back into a lying position. “You are safe here. Try to relax.”
The voice was soothing and calm. Though it sounded strangely familiar, Rhode couldn’t seem to place it. He shifted his eyes in every direction, trying to take in his surroundings.
As if to answer his question before he asked, the figure spoke again. “You are deep beneath the city. I felt it best to bring you here in the case someone tried to take advantage of your condition.”
“Wot the…w-whos is yous?” Rhode stuttered as he squinted to see the figure at the foot of his bed. His speech was slurred and his vision was blurry. Blinking a few times, the room came a bit more into focus. Rhode could see a slender hand holding a marble bowl while the other hand vigorously stirred some sort of paste.
“I gave you something for the pain. You may feel some disorientation,” the voice explained.
“Ya, Is don feels so goods,” Rhode complained, rubbing his forehead painfully with an irritated sort.
“You had quite a fall. Your shoulder was dislocated, your left arm is fractured, and your skull is cracked. You will need a fair amount of rest to recover, or you could make matters worse.”
“Is don needs no rest,” Rhode snorted defiantly, trying once again to sit up in his bed. A wave of pain rushed over him, and he grimaced agonizingly for a moment, finally surrendering to his injuries and laying back down with a slow grunt. He closed his eyes and listened to the faint stirring inside the bowl.
“If you were trying to worry me to death Rhode, you almost succeeded.”
Rhode opened one eye with a puzzled expression. “L..Lucy?” he inquired.
“I’m here Rhode, now just relax,” the tiefling whispered as she leaned over him, pressing a damp cloth on Rhode’s forehead.
“Is confused babes. Wot kinds o stuff you giv’n mes? Yous sounds diff’ren.”
Lucy placed the cloth in a bowl of water near the bed, stroking Rhode’s hair with a concerned expression on her face.
“Rest now, dear. When your condition improves, we have some things to discuss.”
“Wot th…” Rhode mumbled as he glanced around and strained to sit up.
“Shhhhh…” came a voice from under the large robe, as a gentle hand touched Rhode’s chest, pushing him back into a lying position. “You are safe here. Try to relax.”
The voice was soothing and calm. Though it sounded strangely familiar, Rhode couldn’t seem to place it. He shifted his eyes in every direction, trying to take in his surroundings.
As if to answer his question before he asked, the figure spoke again. “You are deep beneath the city. I felt it best to bring you here in the case someone tried to take advantage of your condition.”
“Wot the…w-whos is yous?” Rhode stuttered as he squinted to see the figure at the foot of his bed. His speech was slurred and his vision was blurry. Blinking a few times, the room came a bit more into focus. Rhode could see a slender hand holding a marble bowl while the other hand vigorously stirred some sort of paste.
“I gave you something for the pain. You may feel some disorientation,” the voice explained.
“Ya, Is don feels so goods,” Rhode complained, rubbing his forehead painfully with an irritated sort.
“You had quite a fall. Your shoulder was dislocated, your left arm is fractured, and your skull is cracked. You will need a fair amount of rest to recover, or you could make matters worse.”
“Is don needs no rest,” Rhode snorted defiantly, trying once again to sit up in his bed. A wave of pain rushed over him, and he grimaced agonizingly for a moment, finally surrendering to his injuries and laying back down with a slow grunt. He closed his eyes and listened to the faint stirring inside the bowl.
“If you were trying to worry me to death Rhode, you almost succeeded.”
Rhode opened one eye with a puzzled expression. “L..Lucy?” he inquired.
“I’m here Rhode, now just relax,” the tiefling whispered as she leaned over him, pressing a damp cloth on Rhode’s forehead.
“Is confused babes. Wot kinds o stuff you giv’n mes? Yous sounds diff’ren.”
Lucy placed the cloth in a bowl of water near the bed, stroking Rhode’s hair with a concerned expression on her face.
“Rest now, dear. When your condition improves, we have some things to discuss.”
Lucy: Geez that ogre hits hard! But in some strange way, I like it...
-
Lord Zhengyi
- Dasarian
- Posts: 162
- Joined: Thu Feb 22, 2007 3:44 am
Morning sunlight began to shine through the foggy pane of glass, focusing a warm column of light that illuminated the tiefling’s peaceful features as she slept in the old rustic bed. Inside the cabin, the air was damp and cold, and Lucy remained curled underneath the heavy, quilted bed sheets to keep warm. As more and more of the morning light poured into the small room, her eyes flickered slightly and slowly crept open. The sound of birdsong in the surrounding forest always greeted her to a new day with open arms, though Lucy was anything but joyous. Her nightmares continued to haunt her, and her time spent at the tiny shack in the woods was growing consistently more unpleasant. Her strange rescuer had become much more like a captor in recent months, and his cruelty had become all too evident. On several occasions, he’d grown suddenly angry with his tiefling companion over the smallest of trivialities, only to apologize later and present her with a lavish gift.
Lucy rubbed her face with a solemn grunt. Looking down at the back of her hand, she twisted her lips into a frown while she focused on the thin silver ring on her finger. The band was twisted in an intricate pattern, and a large, flawless ruby rested in the center. The ring was probably worth a small fortune, but Lucy would have just as soon tossed it into the river. Her master had given it to her in the promise of making her “his”. She still wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but she didn’t like the sound of it. After spending years as a guest in his home, Lucy now felt more like a prisoner, and she accepted the ring only because she was afraid not to – not because it was something she wanted.
Rising slowly from under the sheets, she placed her feet on the cold wooden floor, making her way over to the armoire where her clothes were kept. After a brief morning routine, she wearily strolled down a short hallway to a trapdoor near the rear of the house. It was a chore she’d done hundreds of times during her years at the forest shack. Her master was always away hunting in the morning and always returned after dark. Each night when he arrived, he expected everything to be in order – or else.
Reaching down and grabbing an iron pull ring, Lucy swung the door open and let it fall against the wall carelessly. Inside was a small wooden stairway next to a stone wall. The basement was dark, but at the base of the stairs was an ornate candelabra that provided just enough light for the tiefling to see, thanks mainly to her keen vision.
Lucy grabbed the iron light source and crossed over the damp stone floor until she reached the far wall of the basement and a series of iron bars. She reached into a nearby barrel, tossing handfuls of mixed nuts and grains in various directions.
“Morning girls, breakfast time..”
Beyond the rusty iron bars lay half a dozen teenage girls, shivering and filthy. They huddled together and closed their eyes tightly as the handfuls of rations showered over them, landing on the floor of the grimy cell. Their hair was matted and stringy, and their clothes were damp and covered with mold.
“Aw, don’t look so sad, girls. I hear the master is growing hungry again. This should all be over very soon.”
Though Lucy’s words were ghastly and terrified the girls even further, her tone was half-hearted, much like the way she spread the food about. It was obvious she was not enjoying herself. Despite her lack of enthusiasm, none of the girls could muster the courage to speak. They didn’t beg for their lives or try to convince Lucy to let them free. They simply remained huddled together, hoping soon their demonic caretaker would leave them alone with their despair.
Lucy finished disbursing the daily rations and climbed back up the stairs, closing the trap door behind her with a heavy thump. Making her way to a nearby window, she gazed out into the dense forest surrounding the modest dwelling. Overgrown brush and fallen logs littered every inch of ground. In the distance, the hooting of an owl echoed through an otherwise lifeless, twisted expanse of forest.
Lucy let out a sigh.
“I’ve got to get out of here…”
Lucy rubbed her face with a solemn grunt. Looking down at the back of her hand, she twisted her lips into a frown while she focused on the thin silver ring on her finger. The band was twisted in an intricate pattern, and a large, flawless ruby rested in the center. The ring was probably worth a small fortune, but Lucy would have just as soon tossed it into the river. Her master had given it to her in the promise of making her “his”. She still wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but she didn’t like the sound of it. After spending years as a guest in his home, Lucy now felt more like a prisoner, and she accepted the ring only because she was afraid not to – not because it was something she wanted.
Rising slowly from under the sheets, she placed her feet on the cold wooden floor, making her way over to the armoire where her clothes were kept. After a brief morning routine, she wearily strolled down a short hallway to a trapdoor near the rear of the house. It was a chore she’d done hundreds of times during her years at the forest shack. Her master was always away hunting in the morning and always returned after dark. Each night when he arrived, he expected everything to be in order – or else.
Reaching down and grabbing an iron pull ring, Lucy swung the door open and let it fall against the wall carelessly. Inside was a small wooden stairway next to a stone wall. The basement was dark, but at the base of the stairs was an ornate candelabra that provided just enough light for the tiefling to see, thanks mainly to her keen vision.
Lucy grabbed the iron light source and crossed over the damp stone floor until she reached the far wall of the basement and a series of iron bars. She reached into a nearby barrel, tossing handfuls of mixed nuts and grains in various directions.
“Morning girls, breakfast time..”
Beyond the rusty iron bars lay half a dozen teenage girls, shivering and filthy. They huddled together and closed their eyes tightly as the handfuls of rations showered over them, landing on the floor of the grimy cell. Their hair was matted and stringy, and their clothes were damp and covered with mold.
“Aw, don’t look so sad, girls. I hear the master is growing hungry again. This should all be over very soon.”
Though Lucy’s words were ghastly and terrified the girls even further, her tone was half-hearted, much like the way she spread the food about. It was obvious she was not enjoying herself. Despite her lack of enthusiasm, none of the girls could muster the courage to speak. They didn’t beg for their lives or try to convince Lucy to let them free. They simply remained huddled together, hoping soon their demonic caretaker would leave them alone with their despair.
Lucy finished disbursing the daily rations and climbed back up the stairs, closing the trap door behind her with a heavy thump. Making her way to a nearby window, she gazed out into the dense forest surrounding the modest dwelling. Overgrown brush and fallen logs littered every inch of ground. In the distance, the hooting of an owl echoed through an otherwise lifeless, twisted expanse of forest.
Lucy let out a sigh.
“I’ve got to get out of here…”
Lucy: Geez that ogre hits hard! But in some strange way, I like it...
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Lord Zhengyi
- Dasarian
- Posts: 162
- Joined: Thu Feb 22, 2007 3:44 am
She ran.
She had been running for most of the day, and still there was no sign of the forest breaking. Had she gone the wrong way? Questions and fear swirled in her mind as her ears filled with the sounds of her own heart pounding and the dry crunches of leaves and twigs under her feet. She began to realize she was lost. She stopped as the base of a huge, ancient tree, shifting her gaze in every direction to gather her bearings.
Every direction looked exactly the same.
Lucy new night would be falling soon, and under the moon of the night sky, she would be easy prey for the master. He would not be pleased at what she’d done to the slave girls in the cellar. She didn’t want to do it, but the tiefling figured it would only take her master a few moments to search the cabin and realize she was gone. Without food, however, he might be too weak to pursue her. Images of the charred corpses flashed in Lucy’s mind, and the screams of the young girls echoed in her ears, as though it were coming from the woods itself.
Lucy heard a rustle in the underbrush. Her eyes darted to that direction, but she saw nothing but trees and fallen logs. Her breathing was heavy, and her entire body was covered in a fine, sticky layer of sweat. It trickled down her face and stung her eyes. She rubbed them with an irritated snort, blinking several times as she tried to locate the source of the rustle. A twig snapped.
She began running. She chose a direction, and moved as quickly as she could through the countless tree trunks and over the countless obstructions littering the ground. Her master had taught her how to move quickly through the forest without leaving any tracks. Armed only with a kitchen knife, she glided through the terrain – until her foot became lodged under a vine.
She hit the ground with a heavy thump and slid through the underbrush painfully. Thorns and hundreds of twigs sliced her face repeatedly, and her chest and thighs were ground into bloody strands by the rough edges of nature. She scurried to her feet frantically, letting out several high pitched moans as she tried to cope with the pain.
But she had no time for pain.
Another rustle of the brush behind her sent her legs moving at full stride once more. Passing over a log, then under a low hanging branch, she built up speed again. Casting a quick look behind her, Lucy could see the faintest shadow of…something… moving through the underbrush in pursuit. Her pace quickened, and she no longer cared if she left tracks to follow. She shifted into an all-out run.
The forest still showed no signs of clearing, and she was beginning to get very tired. Her heart felt like it would soon burst, and she was dizzy. Her mind wandered off into a different place, where visions of the silver-bearded man, bouncing young Lucy happily on his lap brought the faintest of smiles to her lips. The pain she felt, the fear that consumed her, all seemed to melt away at the memories she revisited.
She was drawn out of her trance by a painful cracking against her knee. Looking down, Lucy saw the rocky, steep slope of a river gorge headed straight at her. Before she could react, she saw black. She could feel her body tumble down the gorge, hitting rocks and other debris violently until she finally splashed down into the basin.
The shallow river swirled around her arms and shoulders, and the sun beat down on her face with its warm, previously masked rays. Lucy’s eyes fluttered slightly and crept open just a crack. Above, she could see clouds drifting across a long-lost canvas of blue, and a flock of birds sailing overhead. Her eyes drifted up the wall of the gorge to the tree line above. A pair of glowing red eyes gazed out at her from the darkness of the forest. They were motionless, and surrounded by the shadowy outline of a massive wolf.
Lucy gave a lighthearted snort. She was exhausted, far too injured to stand, and no longer cared anymore. She hoped her death would at least be as quick and painless as possible. The shallow stream where she laid was stained red as it passed underneath her broken body. Her breathing was labored and wheezy. Keeping her eyes focused on the shadow above, she returned the creature’s menacing gaze with as much resilience as she could muster.
The beast in the trees growled low, and Lucy could sense the end was near. She slowly closed her eyes, and relaxed her body expectantly. But death never came. After several moments passed, she cracked her eyes ever so slightly, only to see the outline of a wolf-like tail disappear into the trees.
Lucy chuckled again, wincing at the pain even the slightest movement caused. Had she managed to escape the beast’s territory? Was it looking for another path down into the basin? Whatever the explanation, Lucy knew she was probably dead anyway. Perhaps the creature knew that as well. She let her mind wander into a happy place once again, and let her head fall back against the rocky ground as blackness overtook her.
She had been running for most of the day, and still there was no sign of the forest breaking. Had she gone the wrong way? Questions and fear swirled in her mind as her ears filled with the sounds of her own heart pounding and the dry crunches of leaves and twigs under her feet. She began to realize she was lost. She stopped as the base of a huge, ancient tree, shifting her gaze in every direction to gather her bearings.
Every direction looked exactly the same.
Lucy new night would be falling soon, and under the moon of the night sky, she would be easy prey for the master. He would not be pleased at what she’d done to the slave girls in the cellar. She didn’t want to do it, but the tiefling figured it would only take her master a few moments to search the cabin and realize she was gone. Without food, however, he might be too weak to pursue her. Images of the charred corpses flashed in Lucy’s mind, and the screams of the young girls echoed in her ears, as though it were coming from the woods itself.
Lucy heard a rustle in the underbrush. Her eyes darted to that direction, but she saw nothing but trees and fallen logs. Her breathing was heavy, and her entire body was covered in a fine, sticky layer of sweat. It trickled down her face and stung her eyes. She rubbed them with an irritated snort, blinking several times as she tried to locate the source of the rustle. A twig snapped.
She began running. She chose a direction, and moved as quickly as she could through the countless tree trunks and over the countless obstructions littering the ground. Her master had taught her how to move quickly through the forest without leaving any tracks. Armed only with a kitchen knife, she glided through the terrain – until her foot became lodged under a vine.
She hit the ground with a heavy thump and slid through the underbrush painfully. Thorns and hundreds of twigs sliced her face repeatedly, and her chest and thighs were ground into bloody strands by the rough edges of nature. She scurried to her feet frantically, letting out several high pitched moans as she tried to cope with the pain.
But she had no time for pain.
Another rustle of the brush behind her sent her legs moving at full stride once more. Passing over a log, then under a low hanging branch, she built up speed again. Casting a quick look behind her, Lucy could see the faintest shadow of…something… moving through the underbrush in pursuit. Her pace quickened, and she no longer cared if she left tracks to follow. She shifted into an all-out run.
The forest still showed no signs of clearing, and she was beginning to get very tired. Her heart felt like it would soon burst, and she was dizzy. Her mind wandered off into a different place, where visions of the silver-bearded man, bouncing young Lucy happily on his lap brought the faintest of smiles to her lips. The pain she felt, the fear that consumed her, all seemed to melt away at the memories she revisited.
She was drawn out of her trance by a painful cracking against her knee. Looking down, Lucy saw the rocky, steep slope of a river gorge headed straight at her. Before she could react, she saw black. She could feel her body tumble down the gorge, hitting rocks and other debris violently until she finally splashed down into the basin.
The shallow river swirled around her arms and shoulders, and the sun beat down on her face with its warm, previously masked rays. Lucy’s eyes fluttered slightly and crept open just a crack. Above, she could see clouds drifting across a long-lost canvas of blue, and a flock of birds sailing overhead. Her eyes drifted up the wall of the gorge to the tree line above. A pair of glowing red eyes gazed out at her from the darkness of the forest. They were motionless, and surrounded by the shadowy outline of a massive wolf.
Lucy gave a lighthearted snort. She was exhausted, far too injured to stand, and no longer cared anymore. She hoped her death would at least be as quick and painless as possible. The shallow stream where she laid was stained red as it passed underneath her broken body. Her breathing was labored and wheezy. Keeping her eyes focused on the shadow above, she returned the creature’s menacing gaze with as much resilience as she could muster.
The beast in the trees growled low, and Lucy could sense the end was near. She slowly closed her eyes, and relaxed her body expectantly. But death never came. After several moments passed, she cracked her eyes ever so slightly, only to see the outline of a wolf-like tail disappear into the trees.
Lucy chuckled again, wincing at the pain even the slightest movement caused. Had she managed to escape the beast’s territory? Was it looking for another path down into the basin? Whatever the explanation, Lucy knew she was probably dead anyway. Perhaps the creature knew that as well. She let her mind wander into a happy place once again, and let her head fall back against the rocky ground as blackness overtook her.
Lucy: Geez that ogre hits hard! But in some strange way, I like it...
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Lord Zhengyi
- Dasarian
- Posts: 162
- Joined: Thu Feb 22, 2007 3:44 am
Thick, scented smoke filled the room as it poured from the numerous braziers lining the walls. Every inch of the home was lavishly decorated and crawling with servants, slaves, and of course, well-armed guards. They focused intently on the rural man with the straw hat and his horned companion, their fingers twitching nervously at the hilts of their swords. The master of the house looked them over appraisingly, finally giving a slight shrug and signing a contract on the arm of his lavish, oversized throne. He looked up to the unusual duo standing in his living room, their eyes shifting enviously to every nearby object that wasn’t nailed down. He snapped his wrist towards the rural fellow to offer him the rolled parchment.
“Here is your contract, please handle this matter at once, and you will be well compensated,” he instructed.
Rhode snatched the parchment carelessly, stuffing into a leather sack and slinging it over his shoulder. He cast a glance to Lucy, then nodded to the wealthy merchant, resisting the urge to spit a wad of tobacco juice on his expensive carpet.
“Alrights den,” he replied, turning with Lucy to exit the home and investigate the issue of some missing slaves.
As they neared the front door, the smoke blocked out nearly all sight of the merchant and his entourage. Rhode noticed another door leading to a room on the right. He nudged Lucy ever so subtly and shifted his eyes to the alternate door. Lucy nodded.
Moving towards the bedroom door, Lucy timed her actions with Rhode, who opened and closed the front door to simulate the couple’s exit. At the same time, she opened the bedroom door and slipped inside, glancing around for any valuables that could easily fit inside her pack. The room was lightly decorated, and held nothing of any value, but the tiefling’s eyes shifted to another door in the far wall. She quickly moved forward and opened it, startled to find a house guard standing silently behind it, his weapons drawn and at the ready.
“Shut the door honey bear,” Lucy whispered to Rhode, just loudly enough to get her man’s attention, but quietly enough to not alert the rest of the house. Rhode nodded, shutting and locking the door behind them as he advanced on the guard, drawing his own weapons.
The guard lunged forward at Lucy, thrusting furiously with a long, curved sword, but the tiefling sidestepped the attack, pinning the blade into the doorjam with her twin short swords. The guard growled and jumped back, pulling back his blade and assuming a fighting stance. His horned opponent smiled sweetly, slowly backing away as her opponent advanced, her own weapons held confidently at the ready. Taken back by the ease at which his first attack had been parried, the guard regained his composure and lunged forward again, this time slashing downward with his finely crafted katana. Lucy raised one sword, parrying the blow with relative ease, then once again snaring the weapon between her crossed blades. She tilted her head and smiled at the guard, who was gritting his teeth with hatred and straining to pull his weapon free.
“Ain’t ya forgettin somethin?” she giggled.
At that moment, the guard’s face went pale. His eyes widened, and an expression of horror crossed over his features.
Rhode’s wicked blade came from nowhere and plunged violently into his neck, spraying a gruesome crimson shower across the room. The weapon twisted several times, then ripped free, sending the mortally wounded guard spinning across the room, holding his gushing neck with both hands and gasping in terror.
Lucy giggled, licking the tips of her bloodied fingers as she stood motionless, apparently unbothered by the waterfall of scarlet fluid.
“Mmmm…. Sweet,” she smirked, smacking her lips.
Rhode grinned and made his way into the bedroom, shoving the guard aside as the slain man fell backwards against the bed, struggling in vain to hold on to the final few moments of his life. Slowly, his body stopped moving, and his limbs fell limp as his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, his face grimacing in horror.
“Dar ain’t notin goods in har!” Rhode muttered as he ransacked a nearby armoire. “Ain’t notin buts junk!”
Lucy made her way up behind him, glancing around the room for anything they might be overlooking. Her eyes shifted back to Rhode, who was standing motionless and facing her, grinning ear to ear.
“Whas that grin fer?” Lucy inquired, cracking her own little grin.
“Oh nutin, yas jus lookin good all cover’d en blood,” Rhode smirked, “Yas, real goods..”
Lucy smirked evilly as she reached out and grabbed Rhode by his tunic, pulling him close and kissing him violently. The two erupted in a frenzied exchange, each with their hands undressing the other, tugging at belt buckles and armor straps. Weapon belts fell to the floor, and their breathing became heavy.
The floor of the bedroom had become a slippery basin of coagulating blood, fed steadily by the gaping wound that hung open in the nearby corpse’s neck. Rhode and Lucy slipped to the floor, landing with a soft splash as they continued to tear at each other lustfully. In only a matter of seconds, the two were covered head to toe in reddish goop, sliding across the floor and up against each other.
Suddenly, Rhode stopped and looked up with a puzzled expression.
“I tin he mov’n,” he blurted, casting a questioning gaze to the twitching body slumped over the foot of the bed.
“Ignore tha loser, pay attention ta me stud!” Lucy replied, her cat-like eyes shooting up at her man with intensity. She kicked the slain guard with annoyed grunt, knocking his body off the edge of the bed. It fell to the wooden floor with a dull thump. Looking down, Rhode could sense Lucy’s near-bestial state as he cast a glance over to the leather sack resting on the floor.
‘Wot abouts th’contract?”
“Screw the contract!”
A slender hand reached up and grabbed Rhode’s collar, dragging his head back down towards the floor.
* * * * *
Outside in the hallway, a young slave girl widened her eyes in disbelief as she held her ear up to the locked bedroom door. Boards creaked and a slippery, splashing noise crept through the solid wooden barrier with just enough volume and clarity to leave no room for doubt.
She cracked a grin and walked away quickly, hiding a giggle behind her hand.
“Here is your contract, please handle this matter at once, and you will be well compensated,” he instructed.
Rhode snatched the parchment carelessly, stuffing into a leather sack and slinging it over his shoulder. He cast a glance to Lucy, then nodded to the wealthy merchant, resisting the urge to spit a wad of tobacco juice on his expensive carpet.
“Alrights den,” he replied, turning with Lucy to exit the home and investigate the issue of some missing slaves.
As they neared the front door, the smoke blocked out nearly all sight of the merchant and his entourage. Rhode noticed another door leading to a room on the right. He nudged Lucy ever so subtly and shifted his eyes to the alternate door. Lucy nodded.
Moving towards the bedroom door, Lucy timed her actions with Rhode, who opened and closed the front door to simulate the couple’s exit. At the same time, she opened the bedroom door and slipped inside, glancing around for any valuables that could easily fit inside her pack. The room was lightly decorated, and held nothing of any value, but the tiefling’s eyes shifted to another door in the far wall. She quickly moved forward and opened it, startled to find a house guard standing silently behind it, his weapons drawn and at the ready.
“Shut the door honey bear,” Lucy whispered to Rhode, just loudly enough to get her man’s attention, but quietly enough to not alert the rest of the house. Rhode nodded, shutting and locking the door behind them as he advanced on the guard, drawing his own weapons.
The guard lunged forward at Lucy, thrusting furiously with a long, curved sword, but the tiefling sidestepped the attack, pinning the blade into the doorjam with her twin short swords. The guard growled and jumped back, pulling back his blade and assuming a fighting stance. His horned opponent smiled sweetly, slowly backing away as her opponent advanced, her own weapons held confidently at the ready. Taken back by the ease at which his first attack had been parried, the guard regained his composure and lunged forward again, this time slashing downward with his finely crafted katana. Lucy raised one sword, parrying the blow with relative ease, then once again snaring the weapon between her crossed blades. She tilted her head and smiled at the guard, who was gritting his teeth with hatred and straining to pull his weapon free.
“Ain’t ya forgettin somethin?” she giggled.
At that moment, the guard’s face went pale. His eyes widened, and an expression of horror crossed over his features.
Rhode’s wicked blade came from nowhere and plunged violently into his neck, spraying a gruesome crimson shower across the room. The weapon twisted several times, then ripped free, sending the mortally wounded guard spinning across the room, holding his gushing neck with both hands and gasping in terror.
Lucy giggled, licking the tips of her bloodied fingers as she stood motionless, apparently unbothered by the waterfall of scarlet fluid.
“Mmmm…. Sweet,” she smirked, smacking her lips.
Rhode grinned and made his way into the bedroom, shoving the guard aside as the slain man fell backwards against the bed, struggling in vain to hold on to the final few moments of his life. Slowly, his body stopped moving, and his limbs fell limp as his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, his face grimacing in horror.
“Dar ain’t notin goods in har!” Rhode muttered as he ransacked a nearby armoire. “Ain’t notin buts junk!”
Lucy made her way up behind him, glancing around the room for anything they might be overlooking. Her eyes shifted back to Rhode, who was standing motionless and facing her, grinning ear to ear.
“Whas that grin fer?” Lucy inquired, cracking her own little grin.
“Oh nutin, yas jus lookin good all cover’d en blood,” Rhode smirked, “Yas, real goods..”
Lucy smirked evilly as she reached out and grabbed Rhode by his tunic, pulling him close and kissing him violently. The two erupted in a frenzied exchange, each with their hands undressing the other, tugging at belt buckles and armor straps. Weapon belts fell to the floor, and their breathing became heavy.
The floor of the bedroom had become a slippery basin of coagulating blood, fed steadily by the gaping wound that hung open in the nearby corpse’s neck. Rhode and Lucy slipped to the floor, landing with a soft splash as they continued to tear at each other lustfully. In only a matter of seconds, the two were covered head to toe in reddish goop, sliding across the floor and up against each other.
Suddenly, Rhode stopped and looked up with a puzzled expression.
“I tin he mov’n,” he blurted, casting a questioning gaze to the twitching body slumped over the foot of the bed.
“Ignore tha loser, pay attention ta me stud!” Lucy replied, her cat-like eyes shooting up at her man with intensity. She kicked the slain guard with annoyed grunt, knocking his body off the edge of the bed. It fell to the wooden floor with a dull thump. Looking down, Rhode could sense Lucy’s near-bestial state as he cast a glance over to the leather sack resting on the floor.
‘Wot abouts th’contract?”
“Screw the contract!”
A slender hand reached up and grabbed Rhode’s collar, dragging his head back down towards the floor.
* * * * *
Outside in the hallway, a young slave girl widened her eyes in disbelief as she held her ear up to the locked bedroom door. Boards creaked and a slippery, splashing noise crept through the solid wooden barrier with just enough volume and clarity to leave no room for doubt.
She cracked a grin and walked away quickly, hiding a giggle behind her hand.
Lucy: Geez that ogre hits hard! But in some strange way, I like it...
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Mon-da-oth
- Forum Troll
- Posts: 2013
- Joined: Sat Sep 23, 2006 2:21 am
- Main Player Character: Rhode Wraigh
- Other PCs: Reginald Schudotter
- Location: Edgewood, MD