Supernatural
2004-08-21
Time had passed, and yet, I was still in this cursed forest. It was beginning to get on my nerves, traveling alone, but that was going to change… This is the story of how I met my first companion, and about the town of Mitwegs. The trail twisted and turned ahead of me, leading down into a valley. The old, moss covered sign that hung from the dead oak tree siginified I was on the right trail for Mitwegs… only a few days now, and I would be there. I made camp near the sign; Night had lifted, and in these woods, it’s safer to stop in the day when nothing is awake. At least, that’s what the stories say. I pitched my small sleeping bag in a grove of oaks, probably as old as the one with the sign. Their bark was all but gone, and the wood had begun rotting. I opened up my canteen, which I filled in a brook a few miles behind me now. The water was, of course, very… raw. But, these woods were nearly untouched by mankind anyway, so it was still clean, crisp and clear. I mixed this with various different things from my pack, making my own version of the Bard’s Stew. Bard’s Stew is about the same as Hobo’s Soup, except people of the profession tend to eat a little better. This got me to thinking about my past. My God, I could be sitting in a temple right now worshiping Sol or Lunae… instead, I decided to leave, and learned the trade of the thief. I can fast talk a troll out of it’s club, and had gotten good enough at picking locks and pockets that I could pull the purse off a prince… If he wasn’t looking that is.
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Then, another drastic change, and I began to learn the art of song and rhyme… but don’t let that fool you, those skills still enhanced my image as a thief, and now added ‘Wandering Gypsy’ to my list of stereotypes. I realized I was in a daydream, and rubbed my eyes with my hands softly. It was about noon, and the light was near blinding for someone waking up. My stew was boiling, the rock I was resting on was warm, and the Goblinoid chatter from beyond my grove was echoing in my ear… I jumped to my feet, scrambling for my weapon, and finally pulling it free from my gear. The halberd that I always own has served me well since… well, childhood, and I doubted it would fail me now… if there were only a few goblins. I snuck forward, and peered through the tight grove of trees. To their credit, they weren’t the ugliest Orcs I have everseen… but then, that still isn’t saying that much. There were two of them, and they seemed to be arguing over something at their feet. Whatever it was, I couldn’t see: a small patch of ferns blocked my view. I tried to move noiselessly forward… but they had very keen hearing. One of them stopped, his large, unwashed ears at attention, then he looked straight at me, screamed something in a mix of Goblinoid and Common, and rushed for me. He reached behind his back, and drew the largest Orc Double Axe I have ever seen. The other one was a little confused, but took the best of the situation. He bent over, picked up some deep gray bundle, and began running in the opposite direction. I was frozen in place by fear as he rushed, but managed to snap out of it at the last second and moved.
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I dove to the left on my toes and with a spin so the axe head of my Halberd came around. It clanged uselessly off of the Orc’s armor, and he turned to me, smiling a big, stupid, toothless grin. He swung again, and I felt the blade cut through my thin padding… How could I have forgotten to at least don my armor? He swung again, a large, arching over head swing, with the other head of his axe, and I simply stepped forward, and with the spear end of my Halberd, cut that stupid grin off of his face. He fell, screaming random obscenities in Goblinoid and bleeding heavily, to the ground. I could tell he wasn’t going to live, so I left him, and went to find his companion. I didn’t have far to travel. I just made it through the other end of the clearing when I saw him… or what was left of him. He was diced to pieces, he blood covering rocks and trees, and especially the various twigs and sticks and small stone lying around… like a sudden tornado picked up all the things around him, and cut him to bits, and at his feet was the bundle. It moved slightly, and I finally saw its shape. It was roughly humanoid, but I couldn’t tell to well. All I could see were grey gloves, clutching a long, dark wood staff, and two gray boots. Its face was hidden by the hood of the cloak, but still seemed supernaturally dark… even with direct sunlight. The cloak was cut in many places, and seemed to have a little blood on it… I shook it’s shoulders (At least, what I thought were shoulders…) gently. “Hey… Hey! Are you alright?” I asked, still gently shaking. It moved some more, and from deep within the darkness of her hood, eyes opened.
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They were like none I have ever seen before. My own eye’s are Emerald, with a touch of blue… these were pure gold. At least, the irises were. Otherwise, they were normal eyes. They seemed a little dazed… then focused on me. With a scream that was purely feminine, it pushed me off of itself, and held up the staff. I watched with amazement as the tip glowed with a bluish haze, then turned into a spear tip. She was about to throw this into my chest when she collapsed again, this time screaming with pain. I understood how she felt, the cut on my chest was beginning to burn… I traced a finger along it, and felt a sticky substance. I looked at my hand, ad felt my face drain of blood. The finger was black with ooze. Poison! Those Orcs are getting more and more cunning with each day… I stood up, shakily at first, and staggered over to the girl in the grey cloak. She seemed to have either passed out, or be trying to force the pain out of her body. It didn’t matter to me, I picked her up, along with her staff, and carried her, almost falling several times, back to my camp. I decided that we couldn’t move by at least the next morning.
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The poison was beginning to wear off on me, and I could walk and think clearly, but the girl seemed to be injured deeply. And thus, I prepared to spend my first night in the woods awake, guarding my camp against whatever demons or daemons there were in these woods, fictional or no… * A few yards off, the Dryad looked on as the man stood up, weapon in hand. He had been good to her, so she was going to be good to him. She closed her eyes, concentrating hard, and felt her consciousness drift away with the trees, to find if anything vicious was around them… There are several beast in these woods, driven mad by it’s powers, who grow to enormous size, and tended to attack everyone in these woods… She stopped, and looked right at the camp. Something was not right in that direction… there was… nay, there WERE almost none of those left in these parts of the world… at least, not that Kylara the Dryad of the Pond could remember. They had their own agendas, and left the rest of the world alone… She had to keep watch over it, make sure it didn’t do anything too rash… * I stood alone, a sentry in the darkness. I couldn’t see beyond the grove of trees, thanks to the fire, and if anything was actually out there, I wouldn’t know about them until the stepped inside… There! A brief scuttle, the sound of stone on stone… what could that be? I searched my knowledge, racking my brains for whatever that creature could be… But I didn’t need to look long, as it stepped forward into the light. Stories relate these beasts, the Umber Hulks, to early bugs that were transformed by wizards in days long gone… it was large, with multiple eyes and broad claws. It clacked at me noisily then took another, echoing step forward. My back was to the fire, and behind me was the girl in the cloak… I had to fight, here and now, against a creature that, if it got a hold on me, would easily snap me in two. I swung my Halberd in a broad arc, slashing down on the creature’s arms. There was a sharp cracking noise as the carapace on its claw was shattered, and I silently thanked Yaegern, the Hunter, for that fortuitous shot. Seconds later, I wished I hadn’t been so cocky, and it used it’s good claw to smash me back against the rock. It hurt more then the poison or the cut, but I wasn’t out yet.
It began to charge at me, perhaps to finish me off, but I reacted swiftly.
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I braced the Halberd on the rock, and pointed the spear at its chest. It couldn’t stop in time, and I dove out of the way as the spear went straight through it, and it fell limp. I had rolled onto the grass, and watched as its blood dripped to the ground. I stepped foreword to retrieve my weapon, when the thought struck me. Certainly that would not have killed it? They were… That line of thought was cut off when it’s massive claw swung at me. It was only playing dead! I dived backwards, feeling the tips of it’s claw cut my skin. It stood, and pulled my halberd free from itself, and threw it into the woods. It took another step foreword, raising its claw to pound me into the ground, when it stopped. It’s claw held in midair, and I could just see the reason why: Vines that jung from the trees had caught it and ensnared it. Now was my chance! I dove for the fireplace, grapping a burning stick, and while it was still struggling with the vine, I jabbed at it’s wound. It screamed loudly, lowering its head to bite me, which was what I was waiting for. I jabbed it swiftly in it’s eyes. There was a puff of black smoke, and the smell of burning flesh and the sound of popping eyes made me sick. It shivered once: The stick had apparently been pointed, and jabbed all the way to it’s tiny brain. It fell, almost straight downwards, its claw still upraised, and let loose a long, slow death rattle.
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I breathed heavily of relief, but my breath was caught off guard. “Who are you?” A feminine voice said from behind, and as I turned, I saw that the girl had awoken. She was holding her staff, and it was once again a spear. “You might want to put that away missy, I don’t want to hurt you. ” I said calmly, and walked towards my halberd. Suddenly, I tripped! I coughed twice, having taken a face full of dirt, and looked down. The grass and dirt had apparently grown into one massive piece that caught my foot in place! “Who are you?” She said, insistently. Gods, if she can do that… “Fine, fine, lass, I’ll tell you. I am Kythe, a wandering Bard. Now, if I may Enquirer who you are?” I asked, trying to use my best manners. They seemed to be enough, and she slowly lowered the staff. “My name is… Anze. ” She said slowly, like she was trying to remember. “What am I doing in this clearing?” She asked, so I told her of the Orcs and what had happened, and what I was doing there. By the end of this story, she put away her staff, and I felt the ground loosening.
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“In that case, you may take me to this ‘Mitwegs’ castle. ” She said, standing up. “Er, no, we can’t. ” I said, and in a flash the spear-staff was in her hands. I held mine up. “I mean, we can’t right now! These woods are dangerous in the dark!” I said, hoping she wouldn’t just spear me right then: I had had a long night, and was pretty wiped out. She sat back down. “Fine. We will go when we can. ” And with that, my foot was free. I will not fill this story now with pointless paragraphs. We slept on opposite sides of the fire, looking away from each other. Well, perhaps there is one detail. In the middle of the night she began to cry in her sleep, saying “Momma… Poppa…” but I assume this was just homesickness, brought on by being in these accursed forest. Day broke again, and for the first day I had spent in this forest, I would be traveling by light: We would get there before dusk, if we weren’t way laid.
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I had to carry my pack of course, but she didn’t seem to have anything with her greater then the staff, so it was an effort to keep a good pace going. We talked along the way, about where we were going in life, interesting stories from our past, and the like, and that helped ease the sore shoulders and aching back. Sure enough, by dusk we arrived to the keep of Mitwegs. Mitwegs was, in some sense, a completely worthless town. It rests on a cliff overshadowing a valley that leads to the heartlands. A long time ago, this was a fort against Lucitain’s armies. The guards, however, brought their families, and as the war died out, it became a town. The castle is in disrepair, but it is the most remarkable stop from the inner towns and the border. The main gate was open, and we entered unchallenged. Inside the walls of the fort, was a smithy, a stable, and of course the main keep, which had large, iron and wood doors. They swung with a lot of noise, and we were met with a priestess of Sol. She smiled and greeted us warmly. “Will you be staying for dinner?” She asked, and we both nodded. “Well, it isn’t ready yet, but if the cooks are feeling kind, they may give you a quick loaf of bread. The tavern is on your left, dining hall on the right.
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” And she left us to it. Anze immediately went to find the wash rooms; she was covered in dirt and cuts, and desperately needed a good scrubbing. I, however, left for the tavern. These kinds of places are natural havens for Bards, and I wanted to hear what they had to say. I learned a few things, the Capital was in an uproar over the recent rash of smuggled goods, people were looking foreword to festivals, and the like. I told my own story, changing a few details, of course, of the dryad and me, leaving them to imagine the more adult bits. One man thought my story was brilliant, he was young and starry-eyed, a novice adventurer no doubt, who probably would leave the next day to see if he could find the dryad. Another man, however, pointed out with disgust how crude my story was, but the other bar members who listened in scoffed him, each trying to hide their visible ‘approval’. I left this crew to go to the kitchens. Inside were at least ten men and women, working hard to produce a meal for a castle. In old days, they would have made beef and bread, but in these lazy times, they put more effort into it. One of them saw me, and without a word needed, threw me a large, round loaf of bread. It was Ogrewheat, I could tell just by the smell of it. Ogrewheat is to wheat what Ogres are to men. They are much larger, producing much more grain, but are very bland, sometimes with a bad taste.
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Most chefs add spices to their loaves to make them edible, but with such grain, it is possible to feed the masses with little cost. I took a bite out of my loaf, and found to my delight that it was honey coated. I took it back to the tavern, and listened to more stories as I finished the bread. Eventually, a large iron triangle was sounded, calling everyone to dinner. Anze had returned by this point, her gray robes cleaned of the caked mud, but thanks to the supernatural darkness around her face, it was hard to tell if she got clean at all. The meal was splendid: Roasted pig, set on spits along the tables, bread, some freasher fruit brought in from the farmlands around here, and a large glass pitcher for every four clay cups, full of clear spring water. In these areas, where wheat grows rampant and wild. Mead and the like could be bought for almost a copper piece a jug, but clean water was a little harder to come about. I ate until I was full, the cuts and scrapes of last night’s battles long forgotten. I stood, excused myself from the lively conversation, and went for a walk.
Just down the hall from the Dining room was a small spiral staircase, and it led up and up, with a few windows to let in light, to the castle battlements. The battlements surrounded the square roof of the keep, and off to one side a stand of unstrung bows stood ready, waiting for the archers should the need ever arise. Sol had painted the sky a vivid dark purple and black, with crimson and gold edging around the rim. The air had a soft breeze about it, one that would not reach below the canopy of the forest, which brought the scent of wood smoke and flowers. It was warm, the rock making up the castle still heated from the days sun.
Ru Lunae herself hangs high in the air, though she hides behind some clouds. I stood still and listened to the wind rustle the leaves, the sound of birds and, off in the distant, the cry of some animal towards Lunae. It was so serene… until a muffled moan broke it. It was close by. I had nearly bumped into the woman without seeing her. She had on the garb of the town’s guard, an iron chest-plate with paudlions and gloves, a iron spear in her left hand. But, her right hand is what caught me off guard: Her belt was loosened from around the iron leggings, and even from my position I could tell her hand was deep in her own pants, moving furiously. I caught her scent, the copper and ozone smell of sweat on iron, and the sweet smell of her love juices, which coated her hands. She whimpered again, tossing her head back a little, her black hair cascading behind her. It was now or never, one part of me thought, and while the rest of me tried to figure out what that part meant, my body took action. In one swift move, I reached around her, my right hand catching on the iron that covered her breast, my left swiftly sneaking down her pants. She nearly screamed out, both in surprise and alarm, at my touch. But, the Gods smiled upon me, and she did not. Instead, she looked at me deeply, staring into my eyes… and I knew what was happening. She needed someone, anyone, to love.
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I was trying to stop myself. This was wrong, and what if she decided to draw a weapon on me? Even in these day’s, a woman could defend herself, a few even if outnumbered. I watched her eyes, and understanding drew across my face. I nodded slowly, as my hands began their deeds. Her own hands reached over her head, holding onto mine lightly, as she moaned softly again. My left hand flicked over her sopping wet clit, and she shuddered. My right searched and found a way under the armor, and felt her hot tingling flesh there, rubbing and kneading her nipple and tit. She began to rock under my arms, rubbing her leather-covered ass over my crotch. She was strong, even for a town guard, and several times she nearly broke free of the grasp in sheer writhing ecstasy as I fondled her sex and gently kissed the back of her neck. She turned on her heels, hands on the back of my head, pulling me foreword and down for a kiss. She was slightly smaller then I, so I had to stoop to continue fingering her sweet pussy. Of course, this put me in the perfect position to loosen her armor (With a little help from her) and begin fondling her breast with more room to work with. We were both so lost in the lovely feeling that if another person came up the stairs, I suppose we’d either kill him or make a threesome. Kiss after kiss, caress after caress, and she reached down, guiding my fingers deeper in her snatch. I slowly pushed into her, but she obviously didn’t want it slow.
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She hopped a little in the air, and taking in a deep breath, fell down with all her weight, forcing herself almost past my knuckles. I kissed her again, my tongue slipping inside her mouth forcefully, exploring, and finding her own tongue ready to do battle. She eventually knelt before me, and with deft hands removed my leather belt (I had taken off my armor earlier. ) and dropping my pants, revealing my rock hard member. She eyed it up for a second, before licking it gently, taking in it’s taste, She smiled, and with the deftness of a master, she took it almost all in, gagging a little as it reached the back of her throat. She waited, collecting saliva in her mouth for lubricant, before drawing back slowly, pulling my foreskin back with her and over the head before releasing it. It was my turn to moan in pleasure, she certainly knew what she was doing. She repeated this four times, by the third I was reeling and the fourth I was ready to explode. After, she pulled herself off of me with a small pop and an impish grin, washing my balls with long, lavishing licks before she stood up, removing her leggings. They clanged to the floor nosily, and she was left standing there in a pair of leather thongs and her loosened chest plate, which she kept on. My hands flew back to attention for her, my right deftly slipping past her damp thong, finding her hole once again and continuing. Surprised, she pushed it aside, and took a step foreword, kissing me on the bottom lip, spreading her thighs just enough to wrap her legs around me. I needed no more encouragement, and using my arms to support her, she hopped up, suspended by our arms and her legs, just above my saliva-coated penis. I looked her in the eyes one last time questioningly, and she nodded, biting her lower lip and taking a deep breath. I took this sign of encouragement, and began to let her slip.
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No sooner did she touch my cock-head, then she started her hips moving, both of us moaning. I let her go a little faster, and felt my length pierce inside of her. She screamed, but I cut this short with a kiss, which she returned almost animalistically. I locked my lips with hers, and with each breath I took in through my nose, I shared, filling her lungs with my warm air. It took a few moments for her to reach the base of my member, and by then she was sucking the air out of me in ragged gasps. I broke our kiss for a second, licking both of her lips, before bucking a little, giving her everything I had to give. She moaned again, and I continued our life-kiss with passion. I lifted her off of me slowly, gently, as her hips began to thrust, trying to go for my member again. I let her have it, and as she was nearly fully off, I let her go. She slipped a second before ramming herself onto me, the thought of screaming long behind her, as she used her own power to finish us both off. The world around me went fuzzy and white, and as I met each of her thrust with a buck, I knew I was coming dangerously close to climaxing first, a very ungentlemanly gesture. And so, I backed off a little, letting her impale herself, while I tried to keep from going. I must have done a fairly well job, because moments later she began to cry out again, not true screams, but of ecstasy. I felt my crotch get soaked, with little trails running down my legs. Her eyes opened wide, and she blushed with embarrassment.
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I smiled, kissed her cheek, and sat down on the rock floor. She was a little perplexed as to what I was doing, until I started pressing into her. She moaned again, this time her own hand wrapping over her mouth. She had come first, and now it was time for me. I bucked my hips, bouncing almost off the floor sometimes, pushing myself deeper into her. She wrapped her arms around my head, and pressed her head into my chest to keep from making more noise. With each thrust, I was met with a gasp for air. My balls boiled, the pressure rising inside of me, as I thrust once more… twice more…. On the third buck, it became my turn to moan as I slipped out of her sweet cunt with a wet noise, stood up from under her swiftly, and sprayed myself over her chest armor, a little splattering up on her face. I collapsed beside her, both of our chest heaving in unison. After a few minutes of silence, she removed her chest plate, and licked it clean, giving me as much of a show as she can. Then, to my surprise, she moved her head between my legs, cleaning me all up down there. This was enough to get me hard again, and she smiled as her fist closed around my aroused member, pumping with slow, firm strokes. I grabbed her hips and pulled her towards me. She did not mind, and I began to lick her out, tasting her sweet juices for the first time.
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Her clit was engorged, and she moaned and shuddered every time I tapped it with my tongue. She closed her lips around my cock-head, and began her earlier activity, taking it all in, wetting it down and pulling it back over my head, but upside down. I licked my way deeper and deeper until my face was buried inside her, her damp pussy walls clinging to my tongue. We both came with each other this time, her a bit more readily showable with her juices, my member throbbing, nothing but precum to give. After she cleaned up my crotch this time, she worked on my face, licking and kissing delicately. Suddenly, we both became aware of the world outside our loving. A bell was ringing, and lights in houses went off one by one; it was curfew hour, and she turned to me, saying in a husky voice, which I heard for the first time. “You’d better get back to your room, sir, I don’t want to get some handcuffs or a dungeon involved. ”.
