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Thread: [M] Cold Steel IC

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    Fantasy [M] Cold Steel IC

    Rated M for Mature; Will Encompass All that a Mature Rating Entails!

    Cold Steel



    Death doesn't always come from the chilled wind or the razor claws of a beast, sometimes it comes from the padded footfalls or a deceptive word.

    A cold wind howled through the dimply lit streets of Skye. Drunken brawls co-mingled with the songs of wild revelry. A true example of a northern town where if the weather doesn't kill you someone with a blade and a grudge will. It was a town of hardship, a town of death, a town...belonging to the Àrd Rìgh Aldino Vigamoar High King of Albain or the Northen Territories as it's known in the South and one of the few powers able to rival that of the Emperor himself.

    But as is the nature of the barbarous men and women of Albain they waste time and energy with infighting and petty power struggles. The Àrd Rìgh has spent the better part of his long warrior's life quelling and uniting these warring factions. Ten years ago he became the first Chief to be voted High King since the days of Mathan Iarainn, the war chief that first landed on the desolate tundra and ice floats that would become the Northern Territories. Now a mere four factions stand in the way of his master plan. Four Chiefs clinging to ancestral lands and old feuds,Grimvald the Nomad Hunter King of both land and sea, horribly scarred and known for his pack of Dire Wolves, Helmund Goldmane pompous and owner of the grandest meadery outside of Skye, Rigmar the Tall savage raider from the Black Mountains, and Lady Gudrun the Tundra Rose and sole inheritor of the most fertile farm lands anywhere in the North from her late husband Chalmers who was killed in a failed attack from Rigmar and his Black Tartans.

    While he planned to deal with them himself an Envoy from Emperor Friedrich I came like an answer from the Gods. The offer of an alliance with the Emperor and his Legion, with such a partner he could simply look in the direction of his rivals and kowtow them, but you don't live to the age of fifty-seven in this harsh world by being a mooncalf. The Emperor was to send an Arcane Knight to meet with him, but the Àrd Rìgh will first use this man as an insurance plan and try to win the Four Chiefs to his side without showing his hand as ally to the greatest army of the South, he would set tasks to this knight first was find a man who could've been a Chief himself had he not the brand of Kin Slayer across his back. Iolaire-Sealgair, a name once renowned and feared in the same breath, his spat with the bloated goat Rindar was quite the talk around the Mead Halls and Long Houses of the North nearly a decade ago. Rumblings of the giant hunters had reached Aldino's ears and he'd been keeping tabs on the Ranger. He dealt with not only with Skye Hold, but the other factions too, Iolaire could help this envoy get in close and on the goods sides of the Chiefs.

    So with his plan in motion the High King met with this Sir Gunther and his Elvin play thing Lady Vindyamiriel at his castle Silver cloud on the outskirts of Skye and after some pleasantries sent them into Skye proper, Iolare and his own plaything a Shenkai Damned Bladeswoman were last seen in the market district selling Mammoth hide, meat, and ivory, but seeing as it was well into the night and the market was closed he told them to seek out a man named Kenwood he was the Guildmaster of the Hunter's Guild which Iolaire was a member of. If anyone would know where the Albanaigh and his beautiful wife would be Ken would.


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  2. #2
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    "I can't stand these northern barbarians," a beautiful young elf girl in her mid seventies spoke, in the High Elven Language, of course, as the "uneducated savages" as she had described them were unable to comprehend her words, and thus unable to take offense and raise a crude axe or club. "They smell like they haven't taken a bath in months, they drink way too much, quick to kill each other while drunk, and they keep looking at me with those lewd gazes of theirs... as if they think I'm some sort of toy."

    "You're probably right, on all accounts," the knight replied as he led the way away from the High King's castle into the guild district of the frontier city. "Not everyone can heat bath water with Evocation, so they mostly don't bother. But this must be the tenth time you've complained about them since we landed... not everyone is completely ignorant of the moon elf language, you know."

    Though it was clear the girl still wanted to complain about how much she hated the savage, smelly brutes of the north, she decided instead to change the topic and moved a bit closer to the knight, wrapping her slender arms around his much larger arm. "It's fine, so long as you never stray from my side," she now spoke in the Imperial trade tongue, her aristocratic elven accent quite adorable. "Perhaps we can find a clean inn somewhere in town?" She blushed quite profusely as she spoke in a much more shy tone, "I'd like to be warmed up a bit, as it is indeed on the cold side." Her hand drifted to her belly, or rather, a bit below her belly, to show what she wanted to be filled with and where.

    "Once we find this Albanaigh hunter, sure," he said, wrapping an arm around the waist of the cute elven squire. "Looks like we're here." He opened the door for her and entered the Hunter's Guild. Of course, the elf girl's noise scrunched up immediately at the scent, as anything to do with the process of hunting animals, from the killing and skinning process to the tanning process, smelled quite foul to her aristocratic nose. "I'll do the talking," he said, giving her a gentle kiss as he made his way forward.

    "I'm looking for a man named Iolaire-Sealgair," he said to a man who looked like he was some sort of authority figure in the guild. "We were told a certain Kenwood would know where he can be found."

    "Got a score to settle, do ya?" the barbarian huntsman said, sizing the knight up a bit. "Leave it to Iolaire to piss off an Imperial. You should be able to find him in the Arena... good place to settle your score with him while you're at it." His eyes drifted over to the elf girl and he asked, "How much for the pointy ear? Nevermind, Iolaire probably already asked, which is why you have a score to settle. You have my apologies, Sir and Missus."

    Though the elf was clearly offended by the question, the man's immediate apology left her no excuse to express the degree of her displeasure, and she simply harrumphed and clung tighter to the Imperial Arcane Knight, Sir Gunther, as he made his way in the direction of the arena. "I'm gonna have to kill a lot of men to protect your honor, by the looks of it," Gunther mumbled, figuring such questions would be common, yet such apologies much more rare.

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  3. #3
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    Violent cheers and raucous shouts filled the damp humid air of the Sky Blood arena. One of the city's most popular attractions, and the largest Colosseum in all of Empyrean. Fueled by the savage bloodlines flowing through every resident of Albain and the promise of good money and the potential to fame and honor.

    Vagabonds, veterans, bright-eyed young men hungry for glory, and grizzled old men looking for one last hurrah before they meet the Grizzly Reaper. The Arena doesn't care nor do the people who pay for the bloodshed and debauchery that usually tags along with and compliments gratuitous violence quite well. Small time brothels, alcohol vendors, drug pushers. The very worst of the worst mingling with the bored and affluent Tribal leaders and visiting dignitaries. Every itch has a scratch and money moves mountains, you don't come to the Arena for a wholesome family excursion. That's what the Marketplace and King's Gardens are for. No the Arena is for the scum to either rise above their station with blood and blade or dig deeper into the depth with money and influence.

    And down below the cracked and soiled stone seats of the audience four individuals are proving which of the two groups they belong. Three women, a warrior woman of Amazonian proportions named Skarsa, a Blood Elf Spellsword, named Anneta and an Oni woman called Trig-Pau fresh from the bamboo forests of the East. And across from them in the dirt and mud of the central fight ring...a single man...or maybe a better choice of words would be a single beast. Iolaire-Sealgair, shirtless, bloodied, and carrying only his Boar Spear. This was his sixth fight in a row, the Arena rules are simple. You fight until you die or you are unable to carry on, he had lost his knife two fights ago, and the studded raiment he was given three ago. But even after facing captured Raiders from Rigmar's force, a Jungle Brute from the far South, a Hill Giant, and even a pair of half-staved and blood mad Short-Faced Bears had fallen to Iolaire's spear and steel like sinews. It wasn't uncommon for a warrior to last so long, but those that normally do usually have a supernatural edge. They're magic wielding Battlemages, rock-skinned Trolls, or Swordmasters with decades of battle experience and an enchanted sword.

    But Iolaire had no tricks, and the only edge he has is a resistance to the spells of the Blood Elf, but it doesn't protect him from her sword. And considering she stays back and simply drives him like a deer towards either of the giant women who have quite enjoyed pummeling him with their oversized weapons and keeping him from getting in close where neither of them could stand toe-to-toe with the imposing Albanaigh. So for nearly two hours they've been trying to whittle the Hunter down, both Skarsa and Trig-Pau's already immodest clothing had become completely open both of them being as topless as the man now, and like any warrior that knows their strength they've been trying to use their ample assets to distract the hot-blooded man. It worked a couple of times, but like any beast. You tease and torment him enough he'll learn to bite the teasing hand. The crowd above them was becoming agitated, they paid for fast-paced death and carnage not a dance! Even if three of the dancers were half-naked and two of them bounced and jiggled in the most pleasing ways when they moved. The slavering masses wanted blood, and if they didn't see any soon thing would likely get ugly.

    But all of that was lost on Iolaire. He could see Mizia in the stands, and every time he saw her fair face and perfect curves he was reminded that this was for money they would need for the coming winter. The big herds were moving further and further from their usual grounds, and while he could follow them easily. Mizia, while strong and tough in her own right wasn't built for that type of life, she was born and raised in the rain forests of Shenkai. And they have been discussing starting a family and he knows from experience that his childhood is not one he'd wish on another. Even under the Shaman's care he had many long hungry weeks where the game had moved on and his skills were good enough to keep up. If he could he would like to keep any child of his own from that life. But like the crowds he was growing tired, six was the maximum number of fights the attention span of the audience could follow so he just needed to take these three out and collect his winnings. His opponents were feeling the strain as well, they were warriors sure, but they weren't ready for the long haul. Iolaire's life was all about the long haul, in the end he would win simply by them giving up. But women like this don't just give up, so after rolling his large shoulders he lifted his spear and charged forward aiming for Skarsa.


    *In the stands*

    Seated mostly by herself with her husband's heavy bear cloak about her shoulders and his armor at her feet Mizia watched in concern as her man was being stalemated by three women. Iolaire wasn't one to treat a woman that much differently than a man, just maybe a little bit nicer if he thought he could bed them or if they were kind to him. But she'd spent enough time around the big lug to know they were getting on his nerves and he would stop treating them like women very soon and really let loose.

    She sighed leaning forward in her seat slightly and simply glanced across the aisle and saw a young man cautiously approaching her. He wore the pin of a Hunter's Guild apprentice and looked like he had news. Picking up one of her swords she held it out signalling for the boy to stop, she never liked anyone getting close to her that she didn't know. "What's yer business lad?" She asked mentally berating herself for slipping to the inane accent she'd been trying to break Iolaire out of for months.

    The boy a stout black-haired youth with one eye stopped and scowled lightly at the sword, but stopped close enough to be heard over the crowd but far enough away to not get skewered. "Easy there lady. I'm just here with a message from Kenwood, some Arcane Knight and Knife-ear bitch are looking for your big ox." He thumbed down at Iolaire who had managed to feint a killing blow at Skarsa only to bring the butt of his spear up and smashed it under the big woman's chin knocking her out cold before rolling away from the retaliatory attacks of Anneta and Trig-Pau.

    Mizia's eye narrowed and she stood up lowering the blade motioning for the boy to come closer.
    "And what did these two want?"

    The boy shrugged.
    "Flying fuck if I know Kenwood just said they're looking for Iolaire and he sent them here. He assumed the knight had some kind of score to settle."

    Mizia hmmed and waved her hand dismissively at the boy who stood abstinent.
    "Hey about a little compensation? I was drug outta bed to bring this fucking message."

    Mizia looked down at the pit and without looking launched her arm out smashing the palm of her hand into the boy's chest knocking the wind out of him and putting him on his ass before she tossed two copper pieces onto the ground next to him. "Young men shouldn't swear so much. The finest young ladies find it quite repulsive. Now go before I skin you and use your hide to make a pair of boots." She said it in such a deadpan way the boy wasn't sure if she was joking or not, so once he regained his breath he grabbed the copper pieces and ran off. The Shenkai woman smirked seeing hims scurry away before her keen eyes found the knight and his pretty little squire. Returning to her seat she watched them move about curious what they were going to do next.


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  4. #4
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    As he walked out of the Hunter's Guild, the elf at the knights clung even closer, obviously quite uncomfortable with what Kenwood had said to her. "Celine hates perverts like that..." she murmured in her Elven language, reverting back to a somewhat childish way of speaking as her way of pouting. "She only wants her Gunther to do those sorts of things to her..."

    Gunther wrapped an arm around the elf who called herself Celine, holding her a bit closer. "Problem is, these barbarians tend to view elves as sex toys... because you're so much prettier than the local savages, and because they, like most idiots, consider themselves to be a superior race," he replied, speaking her language back to her so that the barbarians around him wouldn't understand. "I suppose if they didn't recognize you as an elf, they might leave you alone though," he added.

    "That... could work," the elf said, now speaking the Imperial language in her cute accent. "I should have just done this from the start, I suppose." With that, she incanted the Draconic phrase, "Sia garris, munthrek." It was a simple illusion spell, a trivial matter for the young elf, considering her training in the school, but it shifted her appearance ever so slightly. Her ears became round, and her elven features changed ever so slightly into those of a human girl around half Gunther's age.

    "Now people might mistake you for my daughter," the knight said with a bit of a laugh.

    "Then I'll just call you Daddy... Daddy," the girl said, batting her pretty human eyelashes at him. He had to admit that with her looking human and acting like a daughter, the barbarians were much less likely to sexually harass her, as even these savage northern barbarians had enough common courtesy to leave the daughters of Jarls and Banns alone... and Gunther looked every bit the part of their Imperial equivalent, as did Celeste.

    It wasn't difficult locating the city's arena, as it was by far the largest structure, dwarfing even the High King's castle in its size. "That looks almost as big as the Arena in the Imperial City... though the architecture is far more primitive," Celeste said as she admired the massive arena.

    "Actually, it's bigger," the knight remarked. "Skye's arena is still the largest in the continent... they actually enlarged it when they caught word of the one being constructed in the Imperial City, as their stubborn pride demanded it. But the fights tend to be far more disorganized... the fighting pit lacks the same wards as the arena you're used to."

    "That sounds.... brutal," the girl said frowning. "Without the wards, people can die in those fights..."

    "That's the idea, actually," the knight said with a nod. "They fight to the death, or until they can't fight anymore."

    "How barbaric..." the girl said, shuddering at the thought of people murdering each other for the entertainment of a crowd of savage humans.

    "That's Skye for you," he remarked with a smirk, placing his hand on her back to guide her towards the seating area. Glancing at the fight taking place, Gunther noted a massive barbarian fighting no fewer than three female opponents at the same time. The combination of the barbarian's immense size and the hunting spear he was using as a weapon told him that this was most likely Iolaire... still alive, though perhaps not for long, considering the nature of the arena.

    "Know those harlots no modesty?" the disguised elf whispered, obviously referring to the exposed breasts of the barbarian woman and the Oni.

    "Quite a bit different from the arena we're used to, indeed..." the knight remarked, making his way to the seating area. "That looks like a sun elf, doesn't it?" he remarked, referring to the only female combatant that was reasonably clothed.

    "It's a blood elf," Celine hissed. "I hope the barbarian guts that.. thing... first." It was quite clear that Celine felt no small degree of animosity towards a certain kingdom of sun elves that had, in her early childhood, turned away from their traditional elven sorcery and instead began to channel demonic energies, becoming blood elves like the one in the arena.

    "You'd rather see the blood elf die than the slutty sluts, huh?" the knight said with a chuckle, taking a seat several rows back from a Shenkai-looking woman who seemed just as out of place as the Oni in these northern lands. "I suppose there is something you hate more than slutty girls... well then, I suppose we should cheer for the hunter, since it would be inconvenient for us if he died." Celine merely nodded, taking a seat next to him and immediately leaning her head against his shoulder.

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  5. #5
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    Mizia studied the newcomers even closer. He connection with Qi and naturally keen eyes caught the glimmer of magic about the young woman huddling close to the Knight. A potentially fatal move in an area where many of the residents have a burning distrust for magic, but considering the young woman was an Elf maybe it was worth the risk.

    Depending on the breed of Elf they are even more distrusted than just magic. Looking at the people around them the Monk saw a few of them whispering among themselves and pointing to the pair. Mizia had feeling a they'd be finding out sooner rather than later. With a sigh she stood up and moved to sit behind the Knight and his pretty little "daughter" Leaning in close she spoke in the High Elf tongue, while her accent sounded very human the words were fluent. "Might I recommend you try a little harder to play the father/daughter card? Children don't normally sit so close to their parents nor lean on them like a lover, even the brutes up here know this. But you have my compliments on your Glimmer Elfy, keep it up and both of you might get out of here alive. Now what brings two Imperial lapdogs like yourselves to Skye and why are you looking for my husband?" She said quietly glancing back at the whispering men her dead stare quieting them and causing them to move away from the trio.


    *In the arena*

    Like the human woman the Oni had fallen. Having been knocked out by the back of the big man's head while she tried to snap his neck after the Blood Elf had distracted him with summoning up a large group of skeletons to attack him. But while the Oni was taller and actually stronger than the big hunter he had a lower center of gravity and just enough strength to break her hold and smash his head into her nose.

    Now the fear the Blood Elf has been able to quiet was at the front of her mind and it caused her control over the skeletons to fail. Tightening the grip on her sword the woman ran to the far end of the arena her lip quivering as she tried to think up a new plan while Iolaire quickly closed the distance between them. The crowd seemed to wake up again and began shouting and cheering wildly, finally the Elf bitch was gonna get what's coming to her. The big man was finally starting to feel the weight of six rounds press down upon him, but giving up now would be akin to signing his own death warrant.

    Still in a panic the spellsword tried to throw some green fire at the man, but like all her spells before the man took it dead center and only staggered a little before charging forward more and as she saw her death coming she froze up and only let out a squawk of a scream as he grabbed the front of her armor and ripped it open her pleasant bust spilling out and the very tip of his spear grazing the flesh over hear heart while his free hand came up and grabbed her hair yanking her head back.

    "Please...please great Iolaire! I do not wish to die! I'm just a prisoner trying to earn her freedom!" She said quietly, the fear in her eyes and voice stilled the tired barbarian's hand. Pulling her closer he let out a low sigh. "Well seems w'aterever Gods ye 'ave on yer side naow lassie. Cause Ah dinnae feel like killin' ye. But ye kin Ah cannae just let ye go. So ya kin what we need tae do." Some hope filled the girl's eyes ad she nodded eagerly, there was an obscure an rarely used by-law in the Skye Arena. Usually a combatant can only leave the Pit in two ways. Death or being knocked out, Iolaire had managed to avoid actually killing any of his human opponents so far, and being knocked out would mean Anneta would be tossed back into the arena cells for the next fight. At least if she was human, being an Elf means she'd likely be sold to some slaver for a sex toy or even sent to be food for a Dragon somewhere. But a third option was one most were too proud to take, the Blood Elf could offer herself up to Iolaire as a servant. Slavery was something Iolaire hated with a passion, but he was too tired to kill or knock this girl out. He moved his spear and let go of her hair before taking a step back.

    The girl tossed her sword aside and dropped to her knees before the man crossing her arms over her chest and dropping her head. The crowd roared out in anger and some even stood up and tried to rush the bars around the arena, but the powerful bang of a hammer hitting a chunk of metal quieted them and then the Arena Boss stood up from his darkened throne above the normal crowd leaning over staring down at the man and Elf. Iolaire looked up fearlessly at the man and placed his hand on the Spellsword's head and nodded. No words needed saying the Boss sneered, the rules of the Arena were set by the High King and as much as he hated the rule Iolaire and Anneta were in the right so with a low growl he nodded and waved his hand sharply the doors of the pit threw open and two armored figures stepped out banging their spears and pointing them into the blackened corridor. The big man nodded and after lifting the Blood Elf to her feet led her away from the quietly seething crowd.


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  6. #6
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    Watching as the foreign woman approached, the knight regarded her with a healthy degree of suspicion… she was obviously a foreigner, like himself, to these northern lands, but a trained professional with no small degree of combat training. The fact that she could tell Celine was using magic indicated she had no small amount of magical training herself… Celine’s illusions were flawless, after all, and it would take a Divination spell to see through them.

    However, since the woman hadn’t recited any incantations, she was either a sorceress who didn’t practice the Arcane, or had some other means of knowing that Celine was, indeed, an elf… such as word having arrived in advance. Her proficiency in the language of the High Elves further indicated that she was an educated professional… likely through field experience rather than classroom.

    “Imperial lapdogs, huh?” the knight said with a slight chuckle, choosing a different language so as not to continue in the Elven tongue, as it drew too much attention from the barbarians. While his proficiency in the Shenkai language was slightly better than Celine’s, it was still far from perfect… as indicated by his thick accent. “You’re Shenkai, right? Last I heard, your people were vassals of the Empire, themselves,” he pointed out. “As far as getting out of here alive, it’s more a matter of not building up a body count when we do so.”

    “I take it your husband is that massive… person, fighting in the arena?” Celine chimed in. “He is… an unfortunate necessity for our mission, as we require a guide in these cold northern lands.” She frowned at the idea of having to distance herself from her knight, but reluctantly complied, a bit of a pouty expression on her cute young face. Though she made an effort not to insult the woman or her husband, it was clear she was not fond of the savage ways of the northern barbarian.

    As the man switched to Shenkai Mizia gave a slightly girlish giggle and responded in kind. “You have confidence Sir Knight that is good. As for my people being vassals that is true for some, but I’m not marching around wearing the Emperor’s seal.” She patted the man’s sword hilt and looked up as the battle finished an almost annoyed tightening of her jaw as her husband pulled a fast one and saved the Blood Elf’s life by making her his serf. The anger of the crowd was tangible and many of them lifted weapons up and threatened to storm the Pit. But the Arena Master’s guards that were standing at attention around the upper level slammed the butts of their heavy pole arms upon the wooden floor as a perfectly synchronized unit.

    The look faded and Mizia’s clear brown eyes scanned around switching to the trade tongue. “Well let’s not test who would win a fight between you two and a couple hundred large angry warriors who may or may not be immune to magic. Follow me, and please speak in the common tongue it’ll get you the least amount of nasty looks. Iolaire is most likely bedding the Blood Elf by now, so we have time for you to tell me what this is all about.” She walked between the two and left the stands heading for the undercroft where the gladiator’s cells were.

    “Maybe not…” the knight remarked in regards to the Shenkai girl’s claim of independence. “But you’ve probably danced at the strings of Imperial noblemen for a good portion of your career.” She had the look of a warrior, and judging by how much she traveled, she was most likely some sort of mercenary… and Imperial nobles were nothing if not huge sponsors of mercenary war bands and adventurers.

    The uproar that spread through the crowd brought the attention of the two back to the fight, where they noted the fact that the barbarian had decided to spare the blood elf and make her his servant. Celine frowned, as she held no small degree of spite towards Blood Elves and would have preferred the woman to have been slain, but the more sensible Gunther couldn’t fault the barbarian for sparing the elf’s life.

    “Now is as good a time as any to make our leave,” the knight agreed, standing up and following after the Shenkai woman.

    “She should just go back to her home on Whore Island,” the Moon Elf muttered in regards to Iolaire’s bedding the blood elf, clearly unhappy with both the fact that the Blood Elf was spared and bedded, along with the sense that Mizia clearly had no problems with her husband sleeping around. She reached out and clutched Gunther’s hand a bit possessively, but resisted the urge to cuddle close to him as she attempted to play the part of a daughter, difficult though it was.

    Mizia noticed the girl’s words and simply smiled. “Ah the love lost between Moon Elves and Blood Elves. Unfortunate in the greater scheme of things, between the two races they could establish the Ancient Elven Empires in short order.” She ignored the knight’s comment about her working for Imperials, he was right, but most of her work wasn’t by choice the Damned Blades were handed around like indentured servants to kill things for often than not. As the group reached the undercroft proper the sounds all around them died off only the sounds of restless warriors and bed warmers disrupting the quiet. Iolaire’s cell was at the very end not even convicted murderers and rapists wanted to be around the infamously mad hunter. “My husband’s cell is at the far end, so tell me a story Sir Knight. Why are you here?”

    “We could never outbreed you humans,” the elf girl said, quickly dismissing the idea of re-establishing ancient empires that had long since fallen and given rise to human civilization. Though many of the elder elves remained stubborn in their insistence that old empires would rise again, the young elf girl had seen enough of human civilization and Imperial technology to know that this was quite impossible. The old ways were gone, and would never return, and her choice of a human for her mate was proof that she had no regrets in seeing them fade.

    As they descended into the undercroft, the elf clearly seemed uncomfortable, her elven senses giving her no end of disgust. Between the scent of blood and cum, the sound of whores and cries of injured gladiators, many of whom wouldn’t survive the night, she was quite unable to focus, and instead simply wanted it all to stop.

    “You’re a professional, are you not?” the knight said, avoiding the distracts of the pit by focusing on the task at hand. Having seen plenty of battles, himself, he isolated himself from the primal nature of the common soldier, though he held no small amount of disdain for them, himself. “This mission comes from a man who claims the title of High King. He wants his claim to be a bit more legit… and so our task is to serve as a sort of… diplomatic envoy, you could say, to some of the other tribes.” While Gunther was more of a warrior than a diplomat, Celine’s mastery of compulsion magic could have a profound effect on the weak-minded northern savages, as most of them lacked sufficient resistance to her stronger spells.

    The woman chuckled, the knight wasn’t telling her everything. “And your Lord and Master has no stake in that happening of course? Last I knew the territory of Albian is the only true threat left to you down South. Befriending the Ard would be a key move to taking over without creating a sea of blood in the middle of the continent. And you just expect Iolaire to join you?” She stopped as one of the cell doors swung open and a large man carrying a girl smaller than Celine burst out and slammed her into the stone wall across from his door both of them already deep in the throes of frantic lovemaking the girl screaming in some guttural language as the gladiator took her blood spilling down her crossed legs.

    Mizia stopped and quirked her eyebrow before moving past unfazed. “How do you plan to convince him? He’s not a Loyalist.”

    As the cell door opened, Celine buried her head in Gunther’s chest, sobbing a bit as the knight wrapped his hands around her head, stroking her hair softly as he held her to his chest. “Fade into your trance,” he whispered into her pointy ear, picking her up in his arms and carrying her like a child as the elf did as told, her eyes slowly closing as she drifted into the meditative trance in order to dull her senses. Though the elven equivalent of sleep would leave her unaware of the conversation which transpired, it was preferable to the trauma of having her innocence shattered… an innocence which Gunther quite liked.

    “I wouldn’t be here if the Emperor didn’t have a stake in this,” he said, holding the light elf easily in his arms. “But I’m not sure why it matters, to you. These barbarians are more of an annoyance to the Empire than a true threat, but a potentially useful annoyance if their bloodlust can be channeled towards the enemies of men and elves alike. Might as well fight fire with fire, or orcs with orc-like men in this case,” he remarked, referring to the ongoing war against the orc clans, who were beginning to become a unified threat on the Empire’s eastern front.

    “As for how to convince the hunter? I figure half again whatever he usually asks for in the way of monetary compensation should do the trick.” He was considering double or even triple, in fact, if the barbarian insisted on being stubborn, though he refrained from saying so as he figured the Shenkai woman would act as a negotiator for as much as she could get, and from what he had seen of Iolaire’s habits so far, there didn’t seem to be a limit to how much he could spend on brothels and beer…. The typical things most low-level mercenaries spent their coin on, coincidentally.
    Once again Miza giggled first at the Elf girl swooning and fainting and second at the man’s words. She’s heard many things about Imperial arrogance, but it was quite another thing to hear it in action. “Well if your Empire can’t beat a race that still uses stone and bronze, I suppose coming to a people who have beaten the Orcs before is a good idea. But much like using the Elf tongue I would recommend avoiding such opinions when you go seeking the other Chiefs. Divided as they are, all Albanacha are patriots even my husband who was banished by the people once upon a time. For those who can’t be convinced with money, patriotism can work, but offering your plaything up to some of the men will go much further.” She chuckled beginning to walk down a small staircase the sounds of moans and sex quieted some mostly being replaced with snores and dripping water. “As for Iolaire only your Elf will really work on him, he likes how small they are.”

    “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” the knight remarked in regards to the difficulty in dealing with orcs. In the Emperor’s rise to power, he had created many enemies, both within the Empire itself and along its borders. Turning enemies into potential allies to fight against those enemies that could not be negotiated with was but one of many elements to dealing with international politics, though he wasn’t sure how much the mercenary understood such matters.

    “Ithilwen is not a plaything, nor is she a negotiating tool,” he growled at the woman who dared suggest using the cute young elf in such a way. “If you’re trying to provoke me into a fight, there’s an arena right above us where I’ll defend her honor if need be. Or are you saying that you yourself would like to be whored out by your husband? Celine… isn’t like that. And she’s perfect the way she is…” he said, stroking the meditating elf girl’s hair softly.

    Mizia chuckled low as if pleased with his response. “So that is where the courtly knight ends and the savage barbarian begins. Pleased it took so long to do so Sir Knight, usually your kind are just shinier versions of the very men who populate Skye. Poke enough holes in their armor and they become the grunting animals we saw in the hall before your little Elfy passed out. As for my husband whoring me out, it has never come to that. Because of what you just witnessed, a skilled tongue can manipulate with words as well as strokes. And if you plan to convince Iolaire-Sealgair to become a puppet in some political struggle it’ll either be her tongue or yours convincing him now come we’re nearly there.” Mizia gave the man a wink and walked ahead whistling a strange tune.

    The knight’s challenging glare gradually softened as the Shenkai woman revealed her true reason for saying such rude words about the elf girl. “You must have met all the wrong knights, then,” he remarked. Then again, most knights tended to serve lesser nobles, while only the best of the best could be considered Arcane Knights like himself. “Though I’ll grant that there are plenty of brutes in shining armor with iron-clad fists. I’ve killed no shortage of them in my own travels, after all.”

    “Just… call me Gunther,” he said with a sigh, having grown tired of being referred to as “Sir Knight” by the woman whose name he still didn’t know. “Besides… it could be your tongue convincing him, as well. I imagine your time in these northern lands hasn’t been entirely pleasant… and I’m betting that some change for the better, if only a small amount, can only be a welcome change. Surely there are some heinous practices that you’d like to see discontinued, right?”

    Mizia’s light-hearted tune stopped as the man asked about her desire to stop some horrors this world has to offer. Luckily her face was away from him as the memories of her own past came back, she’d done her fair share of them herself, but yes there was a great deal she’d love to see stopped, but she simply nodded her head trying not to give away anything. “Indeed so Gunther, this arena being one.” She turned and bowed to him apologetically. “I apologize for probing you, but if you knew my husband’s story you would know why it would be best if I can see the limit of any noble coming to see him. My name is Mizia Sealgair, you might want to wake up the girl before we get there. If he doesn’t think you can handle keeping your Squire from fainting he won’t respect you. You see as much of an oddity as he is among his own people, he still holds their ideals close. And a knight who needs to carry his Squire must not be a proper mentor to said Squire.” She gave him a genuine smile and turned back heading for a large door marked with the carving of an eagle on it.

    The reaction of the woman was muted, but still obvious. He was right on the money in guessing that her time in the northern wastelands, as a Shenkai female, was indeed accompanied by no small degree of hardship, though he doubted the arena was the biggest of her problems. Still, he realized that her manipulating Iolaire was more efficient than trying to do so himself… and Celine was definitely out of the question.

    “I see… then he must be more than he seems, to have earned such a loyal wife… Mizia,” he remarked, leaning in to gently kiss Celine’s lips, the elf girl’s eyes fluttering open as she blushed a bit at the sensation of being roused from her trance in such a way.

    “I think… I much prefer the Imperial City’s arena,” she said with a slight giggle as she cuddled up to her knight.

    “I think all three of us can agree to that,” he chuckled, recalling Mizia’s own distaste for the way this arena was run… quite the contrast to the more orderly, sport-like nature of the Imperial Arena’s non-lethal fights. Setting the Elf down on her feet, he glanced back to Mizia. “Well then….” he said to the woman, “I’ll let you go in first so that you can introduce us… and perhaps translate as well, if he doesn’t speak our language.”

    Mizia chuckled lightly at how the man woke the girl. “Such a cute display, true love’s kiss as the storytellers say, but I do hope you can avoid fainting any more Elfy. Any weakness from you will reflect on your knight and then give my husband a reason to say no.” She reached the door and pressed her ear against is smiling. “I do prefer the Imperial Arena, but this one has much better food and drink. Seems he tired the Blood Elf out, I can hear her snoring. And worry not he speaks the common tongue, just with a heavy accent. I cannot help you convince him though Sir Knight, as you know this is a deal between men.” She opened the door and slipped inside a wave of heat rushing out to hit the knight and Moon Elf in the face with a strange combination of fragrant Shenkai spices and pungent warrior odor, not unlike a military barracks in some senses. Obviously this wasn’t just a cell in a gladiatorial arena it was like a home.

    “True love’s… kiss…” the elf repeated the woman’s words to herself, blushing a bit as she reflected on this. She smiled to herself, though when the pungent odor came out of the cell door, she grimaced at the scent. Instead of fading back into her trance, however, she simply held a perfumed piece of cloth to her nose in order to block out the scent and replace it with something pleasant.

    As the woman went in to the cell, the knight chuckled to himself. He was fairly sure that she had means of convincing her husband to do as she desired, as did any woman, subtle though they may be.. “Guess it’s time to turn up the charm, then. Celine?” he asked, glancing at the elf.

    Nodding at his words, Celine knew what he was asking without having to be told. “Okiai, svern,” she spoke the Draconic words softly. The effect was subtle, and would enhance the charismatic presence of Gunther himself for the time being… a means of making him more charming, so to speak, without having to contend with the barbarian’s own magic resistance by attempting to cast it on him, instead. With a slight frown, she decided to allow the illusion disguising herself as a human to falter… the barbarian was sure to find out soon enough, after all, so she might as well be transparent about her race from the beginning.

    A few second later Mizia opened the door nodding to them a cold breeze replacing the heat from before telling them both the woman had opened some windows, this also told them they were likely on the side of a cliff now instead of underground. “Ok he’ll see you now, but he’ll want to speak with you alone Gunther.” She gave them a smile and pushed the door open the rest of the way.

    The room was large and opened the only other room was a small restroom off the side of the bedroom. There was several soft couches and even a fireplace with as cooking pot. But the biggest feature was a bed big enough to hold what looked like six people. Iolaire was standing by the fireplace sipping a large cup of mead dressed in just a pair of boots and leather pants and the Blood Elf was indeed fast asleep her large bust bare to the cold and still slick with either sweat or water three large bay windows showed the clear northern night outside.

    With a nod, Gunther turned to Celine and lifted her up a bit to give her a gentle kiss. “I’ll be back soon,” he said to her. “Wait here with Mizia.”

    With a nod, Celine smiled softly. “Don’t take too long,” she said. Though she didn’t like the idea of being separated from him, she also had no desire to walk into a room with a naked blood elf, and instead stood outside and waited impatiently as the knight walked in.

    “Greetings,” the knight spoke, his first words to the barbarian being in the trade tongue of the Northern kingdom. He had no idea which dialect of Barbarian came natural to the gigantic man, after all, though this particular language seemed easiest. Glancing over to the topless blood elf, he said, “I can definitely see why you chose to spare her. I’m Gunther von Reichskapital, an Arcane Knight. And you must be Iolaire-Sealgair. I’m told you’re one of the best guides that can be found in these northern lands.”

    Iolaire turned and regarded the knight carefully. Mizia gave him a quick run-down of what was going on. It wasn’t uncommon for people to come seek him out for work, he was primarily a Big Game Hunter, but Bounty Hunter and Bodyguard work pays well enough to keep him busy between seasons.

    This was the only reason he and Mizia were living in his reserved cell under the arena. He hated the smell of this place and the Arena Boss had a habit of scheduling his fights at the worst times. His keen hunter eyes followed every movement and twitch of the man’s body and face. He never trust those from the south especially those who use magic, and normally when he was faced with one he felt the overwhelming urge to break their heads, but he didn’t have that here. Which meant magic was at hand. But his wife had told him to play nice.

    He nodded softly and walked to Anneta’s sleeping form and covered her with the furs before turning to face the man again. “Ay, a night o’ sex is better t‘an a lifetime of rape an’ abuse at the ‘and o’ some fat Sultan in the desert which is usually the fate ‘o Elves t’at lose ‘ere. Besides mi wife likes Elves, she says their gentleness an’ grace remind ‘er o’ home.” He chuckled lightly going to what constituted as a dining table in the cell and poured the knight a glass of mead pushing it into his hand before he can protest. “Save the flattery lad, an’ follow me tae the balcony. We can talk t’ere.” The big warrior led the way to the door off the bedroom area that lead to a natural stone ledge with makeshift wooden railings between them and the huge abyss before them.

    The first words that came out of the barbarian’s mouth were… not what the knight expected. At first it seemed like he was only boning the elf because she was hot, but it also seemed like he had a genuine interest in saving her from a worse fate. “You have a point there,” he remarked. “I’m reminded of this one time I used a magic dagger called Dicksever against a rape band of orcs that were attacking a nunnery. It performed its namesake, to say the least. Not all elves are gentle, but I’m glad to hear mine is in good company.”

    Though Mizia had said the barbarian was fluent in the local language, his words were still quite difficult to understand, to the point where Gunther doubted his squire would be able to understand a word the man spoke, while he himself had to concentrate. Accepting the drink, however, he took a sip. Though he was more of a beer drinker, he didn’t hate the taste of mead, so long as it was properly prepared.

    Flattery didn’t come naturally to him, so he simply nodded as he followed the barbarian out to the balcony. “The job pays well, and shouldn’t be all that much more difficult than your usual work. Interested?”

    Iolaire nodded leaning on the railing. “That was yu eh? ‘Eard aboot that, good work. Aye mi woman told me the basics. So the Ard wants me tae ‘elp yu win ‘is kingdom an’ in turn ‘elp his imperial purpliness win the land aye? Also did yer Elf use magic tae make me nae wan’ tae break yer face wit’ a rock?” He took a sip from his mug looking out at the moon. “T’at’s usually what Ah do tae Imperials.”

    “I guess feats like that make for good bar stories,” the knight chuckled, glad that at least one of his accomplishments was known to these northern barbarians. “I’ll not bore you with the political implications… in summary, we want to respect everything good about these lands while getting rid of the bad. But if it’s easier to think of it as a simply high paying job, that’s what it is,” he said with a shrug. There must have been a reason why Iolaire had been selected out of all the guides in the Hunter’s Guild, though Gunther had yet to figure out what it was.

    “From what I’ve seen of your arena fights, magic doesn’t work very well on you. So you can rest assured that neither myself nor my squire have used any spells on you, since they wouldn’t work if we tried. More likely, you’ve noticed that I’m not like most Imperials… as your woman discovered through her own little test.”

    The Hunter chuckled turning around and half sitting on the railing crossing his arms over his broad hairy chest. “Or she used some kind o’ charm magic on ye tae make ye less...imperial. Mizia can use Qi an’ she’s told me t’at sorta thing can happen. An’ ye can see it as a simple ‘igh payin’ job if ye want mate, but if ye knew anyt’ing aboot Albain politics ye would kin tis nary t’at simple. T’ere are old line an’ old prides tae work wit’, fancy words willane work fer the likes o’ Rigmar or Grimvald, in fact any word bigger t’an fowr letters will piss Rigmar off. As fer Goldmane ye’ll need tae pay ‘im off or do a number o’ favors fer him. As fer the last’un, Ah cannae tell ye much aside from bein’ a wealt’y farmer w’o hates yer kind worse t’an me.”

    “A Qi user, huh? Most of them don’t even think that what they do is magic,” the knight noted. Qi was one of those abilities that had a very different sort of training than the book studies of university Arcana, focused more on physical and mental discipline over knowledge and study. “I see… you know quite a bit about this situation, then. Indeed, there will, at times, be a need to use force where diplomacy fails. But you’re no weakling in the arena, nor am I inexperienced in the art of war. And though they look frail, our women are not to be underestimated, either.”

    Iolaire nodded swirling his drink around his mug. “Aye, Mizia doesnae if ye press her, but she lived much o’ her adult life a Merc. An’ she’s seen Magic Users at work usin’ spells like charms an’ glimmers. What do ye ‘ave planned if neither words or blades will work, can ye do deception?” He looked pointedly at Gunther what he said seemed off-hand, but as honor is big for his people he would like to see how this knight sees such thing.

    “I see,” the knight said with a nod. “In that regard, I suppose many of my experiences may be similar to hers. Not so much as a merc, per say, but as a traveling soldier who has been to many different battlegrounds. Knights are being phased out of the main Imperial Army, however… so my role is mostly that of a special task force, these days.”

    “As for deception… Some degree is deception is inherent in battlefield strategy, but political and social deception is definitely not my thing. To elves, however, it’s second nature… while she looks like a cute sex toy, the elf is actually an essential partner in my mission, who compliments me perfectly.” Though she was young, Celine was still older than most humans, with a Magister’s degree from the Arcane University.

    Iolaire gave a soft chuckle finishing his drink. “T’at’s good tae kin, mi woman is like t’at, but Ah think ye Squire may need some lessons in the finer points o’ womanly wiles. Skin an’ gentle gestures may be key tae that. Mizia does t’at real well.” A soft yawn made him look up and soon the soft pad of bare feet joined them on the balcony as Anneta walked out clad in just her bottom wrappings. Out of the arena she looked very much like Celine, young, innocent, and easy on the eyes. She reached out and wrapped her arms around the big man’s waist, her green eyes studying the knight before them her nose wrinkling cutely. “My, my he’s a handsome one. He smells of Moon Elf though.”

    “Innocence has a charm of its own,” the knight said with a shrug. “In any Imperial court, just being herself is enough to win the hearts of most every man she meets. I can’t claim to be immune, either,” he remarked, recalling the events that had led to him taking the young elf as his squire. He watched as the blood elf girl walked in, though the fact that she didn’t seem to mind being bare in front of him indicated she was quite a different type than Celine. “You must be smelling my squire. I’m sure you’d get along… interestingly,” he mused, noting her rather distasteful reaction to the scent Celine had used to mark her territory, somehow.

    Anneta chuckled. “A handsome human Knight with a female Moon Elf Squire. Sounds like a Fairy Tale my mother used to tell me. Do you need a refill my Lord?” She asked Iolaire standing on her tip-toes to peer at the man’s cup. “Ay an’ Ah asked ye before to nae call me Laird.” He smiled handing her the cup. “I know, but you’re my savior, it would be disrespectful to call you anything else.” She smiled taking the cup before walking over and looking at Gunther’s seeing it still somewhat full. “Not much of a drinker huh? Well guess that’s from drinking so much Moon Tea huh Sir Knight?” She winked at the innuendo before vanishing back inside with Iolarie’s cup.

    The barbarian watched the sway in the Elf’s hips before looking back at Gunther. “We willane be in any Imperial courts lad, but ye do kin Anneta will need tae come wit’ us ay? Mizia told me yer lass is sometin o’ a prude an’ she really doesnae like Blood Elves. Can ye set ‘er right?”

    “I thought most of those tales ended in tragedy,” the knight said with a chuckle, knowing how most every story involving elf-human romances ended in some tragic way… largely as a lesson so as to discourage these sorts of relationships, but Celine was too naive and in love to listen to them, while Gunther knew better than to believe in old wives’ tales.

    “There’s much to be said about elven tea, especially when you add whiskey to it,” the knight remarked, taking another drink of mead, though he knew he didn’t drink as heavily as these northern barbarians did. Glancing back at the elf girl as she went back into the chamber, the knight sighed and nodded at Iolaire’s words. “The feeling seems to be mutual on her part, but Celine will do as she’s told like a good girl should. Just don’t expect those two to be best of friends anytime soon.”

    The barbarian nodded the sudden gust of a cold wind rustling his thick mane of hair. “Aye, amazin’ ‘ow similar the Elves are tae Humans in t’at sense. Did yer purple king give ye any resources tae call upon? The fowr chiefs are very far apart an’ Ah’m no keen on takin’ ye all aroond on mi back.”

    Nodding somewhat at the barbarians words, the knight remarked, “Elves and humans are fundamentally different in a number of ways, largely due to elven longevity… but they’re both essentially people, with personality, merits, and flaws. As for resources… we have enough money to begin our expedition, and I’ll be providing my own mount. Celine can’t call on her unicorn anymore, so she’ll be riding in my lap.” He noted from the barbarian’s words that he had already more or less agreed on taking this job, and would be bringing along some useful combat support in his women… more than Gunther expected, in fact.

    Anneta returned this time dressed in short shorts, and a heavy furred vest essentially covering her up totally. She handed Iolaire his refilled drink, before giving him one more kiss. “Might be better to give her a horse or make her walk.” She winked smiling. “Make her be less of a useless softy. May I go clean up sir?” The man nodded, before giving the small girl a push back inside. She let out a small giggles and went inside beginning to pull off the vest.

    Once more the Hunter watched her go.”She ‘as a point, ye’ll need tae put ‘er in danger a lot in this sae best start naow. As fer our joinin’ Ah’m still unconvinced, why should ah put mi wife an’ assistant in danger?”

    “Celine may be many things, but she’s definitely no useless softie. When we fought together in the Imperial City’s arena, we were able to achieve an A ranking in two versus two combat. Could have gone for an S, but that level is so competitive that it’s more or less a full time job just maintaining it. In Individuals, she was able to obtain an A as well… while the graduation requirement for a full-fledged Spellsword is only Rank B.” The Imperial Arena was much more organized than the one they were in, with rankings defined by difficulty and challenged by competition.

    “From what I’ve seen of both Mizia and the blood elf,” he remarked, neither knowing or caring what the elf’s name was, “They’re no strangers to danger. The elf was, until recently, fighting for her survival against a man who could have easily killed her, and Mizia… well, she strikes me as the type who would take offense to being treated as a damsel in need of protection.” He did notice, however, that the barbarian didn’t seem to be very concerned about his own safety. “Both seem useful enough in a fight, should they be forced to defend themselves.”

    Iolaire chuckled sipping his new drink. “Nae offense tae yer Arena lad, but the High King’s twelve year old son scored Rank A by ‘imself there by simply smashin’ better t’an the trained squires like yer Elf. An’ none o’ what we’ll run intae up ‘ere will care for ‘er rank. Learn tae let go naow, she’ll need it, t’at I can guarantee. But ye didnae answer mi question, why should we bot’er joining ye?” He said this part slower watching the Knight closely.

    “I’m not sure where you heard that rumor, but it’s a falsehood. The youngest human ever to achieve a B ranking was about fifteen, and it takes three consecutive victories at B rank to advance to A.” He shrugged, however, expecting this sort of thing from an ignorant northern barbarian… they loved to exaggerate their own strength, and whenever one of their kind managed some success in the Imperial arena, details became distorted with each retelling of the tale… C ranking became A, forteen year old became twelve, and so on.

    “As for why you should help… take your pick. If you want to be idealistic about it, changing the world for the better is always a good enough reason. If you want to be more practical, some paying work to keep you busy between hunting seasons. Or if you simply seek a challenge, it’s a means of proving your strength. What is it that you love about this land, and what is it that you hate?” In all honesty, Gunther felt he could find any number of barbarians who would take this job in a heartbeat, though this Iolaire seemed more… tolerable than most, and it would be inconvenient for the search to drag on

    Once again the big man chuckled. “Ye’ve never seen the High King’s son ‘ave ye? The lad is as big as me and is just now fifteen. Ye can keep yer false’oods mate, Ah’ve seen the truth, as fer yer reasons most would work fer mi countrymen. Ideology gets ye killed up ‘ere though, I dinnae need tae keep busy miself, tis nice havin’ time off tae fight in the arena.” He moved to the edge of his balcony and gave a soft chuckle as his keen eyes saw the flash of a large shadow zips just under the moonbeams. He let out a strange call of some kind and soon a huge bird responded and landed on his outstretched arm the large dangerous talons gripping the Barbarian’s arm almost tenderly. “Ah’ve no need tae prove my strength, Ah’m very much unlike most o’ the people up ‘ere. I needn’t prove anythin’.” He said lifting the large yellow-eyed Dire Eagle as emphasis. “T’is is Dubhar, he’s one o’ the last o’ his kind left in Albain. Only a strong man who follows the Way o’ the Eagle can tame a Dire Eagle. Everyone else will be killed, even Arcane Knights.” He placed his drink down and stroked the savage beast’s plumage to calm him. “He is evert’ing I love about mi country, as fer what I ‘ate just playin’ the High King’s game willane fix it. So w’at else ye got lad?”

    Frowning at the rude behavior of the savage barbarian, the knight said, “Do not think me some two-faced Imperial noble. I’m not the type to speak falsehoods… ever. It takes far more than simply size and strength to succeed against professional duelists in the Arena.” He watched as the barbarian went over to call on his eagle, noting how impressive the raptor was as the creature made his perch on the barbarian’s arm. “I don’t serve the High King. I answer only to the Emperor,” the knight remarked. It was clear this barbarian insisted on being stubborn, so the knight resolved to one final approach. “If you don’t want the job, I’ll just have to ask the next hunter on my list. A shame though… it would be nice for your family to live somewhere other than a smelly arena cell.”

    With that, he turned to head out and collect Celine. Perhaps the dumb barbarian would see reason, or perhaps the more intelligent Shenkai woman would convince him. Either way, it was too late to continue the search, and it wouldn’t be until the next morning that he went on to the next hunter on his list.

    Iolaire chuckled petting the bird’s neck watching the knight leave. “Ay, he’s nae a smart one, makes sense why they High King would want us on t’is one. All ‘is arrogance would get him mounted on Rigmar’s wall.”

    Mizia soon walked to the Balcony frowning slightly. “So a knight’s arrogance meets a barbarian’s stubbornness and nothing gets accomplished?” The man chuckled and shrugged. “Ah thought the Imperial’s were supposed tae be smarter t’an us? Ah prolly s’ould’ve smashed ‘is ‘ead in. Send his wee lass back wit’ the body.”

    Mizia sighed and shook her head moving to give her man a kiss. “That wouldn’t end well.”

    ****
    As the Knight entered Mizia shut the door and studied the girl. “You do love him, this is good, but they’re going to take awhile, come with me. You look hungry and lucky for you there’s a female gladiator down here who loves cooking.” She gave the Elf a smile and gently gripped her hand leading her way from the door.

    Glancing at the door, the elf paused for a bit. “Alright…” she said. “But… let’s not walk through the sex pit again. It smells like STDs, and elves have very good noses.” She used a simple Compulsion spell to form a telepathic link with Gunther, informing her that she would be in the care of Mizia for a time, and received the go ahead from the knight, proceeding to allow Mizia to walk her away from Iolaire’s room.

    Mizia chuckled nodding to a door marked with a white hammer. “Worry not, Jo’ra is right here, and she’s impeccable about her cleaning. Just don’t be scared when you see her. She’s a Half-breed, Ice Giant and Orc.” She let go of the girl’s hand and banged on the door soundly.

    “Now there’s an interesting cross-breed, if I’ve ever heard of one,” the elf murmured, mostly to herself. She had no idea what a half-orc giant would look like, and her race’s typical interactions with orcs had been almost entirely on the battlefield, though she decided to reserve any such prejudices until she actually met this Jo’ra woman, as her cooking and cleanliness indicated some essential feminine virtue.

    A low, but still distinctly female voice answered the knock with a flurry of foreign sounding words. Mizia answered in the same words even managing to deepen her own voice in the process. Seconds later a woman dressed in just a revealing blue robe and bare feet opened the door and smiled hugging Mizia close laughing. “Mitzy! What is it you are doing here! Your big man let you go before dawn? Usually after fight he keeps you in bed till then.”

    Mizia laughed back hugging the nearly 7 foot tall rocky blue skinned woman. “Well Jo’ra he pulled a fast one on the Boss and pressed his last opponent in serfhood, so she kept him busy.”

    The half-breed put the other woman down and studied the Moon Elf quirking her eyebrow. “This being her? She is not looking like fighter.”

    Celene put up a calm front as she waited for the door to be answered. Though she preferred the company of her knight, she knew she had to be strong on her own, rather than some damsel who needed rescuing. She regarded the half-giant with a neutral expression as she answered, allowing her to exchange pleasantries with Mizia, before giving a giggle at her final comment.

    “I only serve my Knight in Grizzled Armor,” she said in response Jo’ra’s words. “As for the slutty blood elf… I’ve never met her, nor do I have any desire to do so. But you should know better than to judge a blade dancing Elven spellsword by her appearance… Jo’ra, is it? I’m Celine.”

    Jo’ra chuckled popping her hip out some watching the girl. “Oh she is being cute, I am being just big lady with big hammer, but rocky skin is having uses. Now come I am just finishing up some dinner. Hope you are not minding red meat and peppermint chocolate drink Miss Celine.” With that she ducked back inside stripping off her robe revealing her large shapely body clad in just a dark blue unitard that hugged her curves like a second skin .

    Mizia chuckled lightly following Jo’ra.
    “I know she’s adorable, just like when we were young eh?” Like Jo’ra, Mizia shed her outer clothes but she was wearing a simple pair of simple under wrappings. As the big woman moved from the door a wave of heat flowed out just like Iolaire’s room only this one smelled of fresh snow and peppermint.

    The elf put up a bit of a pouty face at the exchange between Mizia and Jo’ra. “I’ll have you know, I’m probably older than both of you combined!” she protested, though she was secretly glad the Shenkai had called her adorable… it was the personality aspect that most appealed to Gunther, after all.

    Following the girls into the room, she noted how they were removing some outer garments and decided to shed her cloak, holding it like a blanket in her lap as she took a seat. “Most Wood Elves don’t eat meat…” she remarked. “But I’m a Moon Elf, and quite fond of real food… chocolate being one of the essential food groups, of course.”

    Mizia chuckled taking a seat in Jo’ra’s large armchair seeing the girl just remove her cloak these gladiator cells are always hot, most of them heated by the earth itself, she wondered how well the girl tolerated the heat. “You may want to hang your cloak Celine, Jo’ra is a great cook, but her meals are always messy especially with no eating utensils.”

    The large woman chuckled from her firepit. “When you are having natural cutting claws forks and knives are not being needed. As for age, I am not keeping track after 75, so much easier. Meat will being done soon.” Moving to a stove she lifted a large kettle and poured out three cups of hot chocolate sprinkling some other spices across the tops before bringing them to sitting area hand each to her guests before sitting her heavy body down into the other large armchair breathing the aroma deep before taking a sip. “So what is bringing Moon Elf and grizzly knight here? Both are being quite rare these parts.”

    The glanced over to Mizia. “What do you mean, no utensils?” She had no idea how to eat anything without utensils, as she was, by nature, a very clean eater. Pursing her lips at the mention of the giant girl’s age, she mumbled, “Or maybe not….” She had expected the girl to age more like an orc and less like a Jotun, but apparently she had been mistaken.

    “Knight stuff, mostly,” she said, hesitant to reveal the details of her mission to just anyone. The fewer people who knew that they were on a mission to permanently alter the political climate of the northern realms, the better.

    Mizia and Jo’ra both laughed, but Jo’ra answered. “We are meaning eat meat off bone.” She pointed a black clawed thumb at her roasting spit where three large legs of boar were roasting the bone sticking out as a handle. But the Elf’s answer made the curious woman lean in, she loved hearing secrets. “What kind of knight stuff?” She whispered lightly.

    Mizia leaned in and whispered too.
    “He wants Iolaire to help him hunt Wyrms, you know how those knights like using the scales for codpieces.”

    Jo’ra leaned back and laughed. “That is being so true, well I am being sure he will be making good choice. Iolaire is being best at hunting those.” Placing her drink on the table she smelled deep and stood going for the spit pulling the legs off and plating them before bringing Mizia and Celine their’s. “Dinner is being served enjoy!” She said happily before digging into her own.

    “Eating off the bone? Like a dog?” the elf spoke in a barely audible tone, mostly to herself. She blushed as she realized this comment might have offended the giantess, and murmured a quick apology in the direction of her hostess, who for all of her unusual appearance had treated her with hospitality.

    Watching as Jo’ra dug in to her food, Celine hesitantly reached out her hands to take a leg, daintily trying not to make a mess. “That’s quite a lot of meat…” she murmured as she began to nibble ever so carefully on the boar leg, more concerned about not making a mess than she was about actually eating it.
    Mizia chuckled eating her own meal confidently Jo’ra was too into her meal to notice the Elf’s insult nor apology. Leaning in though she spoke quietly in Elvish. “Dig in young miss, you’re more likely to insult her by not eating it heartily than by calling her a dog. Besides we can clean you up before your man sees you. Or he can even clean you up himself.” She smiled taking a large bite from her own boar’s leg.

    Blushing at the words of the eastern warrior monk, Celine mumbled, “I can’t have him see me all messy… and I can’t eat this much…” Still, she began to eat in larger nibbles, her mouth still too small to take in the huge bites that Mizia and Jo’ra were taking, yet hanging up her cloak so that it wouldn’t get messy. The young elf was still very much self-conscious about seen a mess by her knight, however… largely due to her youth and insecurity.

    “Try.” Was all Mizia said as she began picking at the bones getting a few bits of flesh off the edges.

    “A great sage once said, ‘Do or do not, there is no try,’” the elf mumbled softly to herself. She would eat until she was full, of course, but considering how small she was compared to both the human and the half-giant, it wasn’t all that much.

    Mizia chuckled. “He was a Shenkai man named Yo-Dah, rumored had it he lived for nearly a thousand years before just fading into the Spirit World.” She finished her own meal and placed the plate down on the small table before wiping her mouth and hands on a cloth she pulled out of her other clothes. Jo’ra had long finished her food and was sitting contentedly in her chair her hands and mouth still messy as she enjoyed her drink.

    “So he was…” the elf remarked. One of her teachers at the University liked to mention this particular quote, and Gunther had said it himself once or twice. A thousand years was quite a long time for a mortal to live, so it seemed like an exaggeration… but then again, rumor had it that the Emperor was even older, so who knew?

    “While I appreciate the hospitality and the meal, I’m afraid I can’t fit another bite into my little Elven belly,” the Elf said as a means of apology before setting her half-finished meal down. While there were Imperial nobles who would take an herb that caused them to vomit in order to continue feasting, Celine found such a habit to be disgusting and wasteful, as there were unfortunate peasants who still faced cyclical famine in the lands ruled by such nobles.

    Jo’ra let out a low burp. “You being very cute, so small and dainty...like child, be taking it with you. Maybe Iolaire can be using it as midnight snack, or be feeding Dubhar. He can be eating much.” She finally cleaned her face and hands before she pulled out a clean white cloth and wrapped the Elvin girl’s meal in it before placing it back into her lap.

    Mizia simply rolled her eyes and redressed. “That’ll barely be a snack for him, but thank you all the same Jo’ra. We’ll let you get some sleep, I know how grumpy you get if you can’t sleep after a meal.” She adjusted her clothes waiting for the Elf to catch up.

    Celine’s gaze grew distant, and a look of approval came across her face as she zoned out temporarily, her thoughts distracted by a telepathic communication with Gunther. “I swear, those men are like Ljosalfar and Dokkalfar,” she muttered, her words revealing the fact that the recruitment attempt had failed. “It time for us women to step in with a softer touch. I can keep him in bed until noon tomorrow… at the King’s Crown,” she mentioned the name of the most expensive, high class inn in the city. “It should give you some time to speak to your husband. Let’s make sure the snow doesn’t turn red with the blood of war.”

    She gave a brief hug to Jo’ra and Mizia, hastily cleaning herself off before she stepped out into the embrace of the annoyed knight. “Let’s go to bed…” she said, pressing against him to show her true intentions behind the word.

    “I can’t stand idiots… thought about challenging him, but then I’d just end up killing him and we still wouldn’t have a guide,” the knight muttered before incanting the draconic words, “Sehlek wyogale Jill, trelk.” The magical words caused both of them to vanish from the arena’s living quarters as they were teleported a half kilometer away.
    Last edited by Holeypaladin; 05-10-2019 at 02:00 AM.

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  7. #7
    Red Ninja
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    Steam rolled out of the small bathroom and the soft singing voice of a woman could be heard above the low pained groans of a man. Upon the bed Anneta was once again asleep still dressed in the shorts and fur vest, Dubhar out preening his feathers on the balcony unbothered by the snow fleck wind whipping all around him.

    In the bathroom seated in the large stone tub were Iolaire and Mizia, both nude and covered in suds. Hunched slightly over the big man was slowly washing away the dried blood from his huge arms and chest while Miza was knelt behind him washing his back while she massages his tense muscles. The woman frowned lifting up on her knees slightly to get a better angle on her man's back. "You are as tense as a crouching Saber Cat my husband. I may need to wake our Elf up to come help me."

    The big man gave a low chuckle only to wince slightly as she dug her strong hands into another big knot. "Nae, let 'er sleep, the fig't was 'arder on 'er t'an me." Smiling Mizia kissed his head. "Can we speak in your native tongue Iolaire? I need the practice still." Leaning his head slowly back his kissed Mizia on the lips smiling. Easily slipping into the rough, but almost magical chant like speech of Albain.
    "Your wish is my command my Ice Nymph. Though I doubt you really need the practice, you nearly mastered it in the first year of our marriage." He gave her a wink before he leaning forward again going back to washing his front.

    With a airy chuckle Mizia shrugged mimicking his tongue albeit a little slower. "Maybe so, Cave Bear, but practice is always a good thing to do. So tell me what happened with the Knight? Surprised you even bothered to see him."

    Now it was the man's turn to shrug as he began washing his legs under the water. "He's a puffed up fool like all of his kind. Thinks he's going to do us lowly peasants a favor by helping to subjugate our children and steal our lands for taxes so his Purple King can go piss on someone's else's lawn and declare war. But he at least looked like he could hold his own in a fight, and his proposal would net us a lot of money..."

    Mizia nodded leaning across his back some her breasts pressing into his shoulder blades making hims smile, she smiled too knowing exactly what she was doing.
    "But?"

    "But, I don't trust him or his Emperor. We've seen this type of thing before, his regal purpliness sends a Knight out on a tour of peace to try and talk some weak-minded fools into joining the army, only to enslave the men, rape the women, and sell the kids into slavery. And they do it all from behind a smiling face, so the people never even realize it until it's too late."

    His wife nodded slowly moving her hands down his burly arms. "Yes usually, but not all the time. Maybe this won't be one of those times? Our people aren't scholars by any means, but very few of those with any influence are fools. This is why the High King has remained independent for so long, you know as well as I he's simply using Gunther and his Elf to meet his own ends to becoming a united and free nation."

    Iolaire nodded leaning back some to clean his feet. "Oh yes that is obvious even to the knight and his plaything I'm sure. Though he seems more like a loyal attack dog than clever hunting hound, so maybe he doesn't. Still the money could allow us to buy our own home up near the geyser springs like we've talked about. Away from the squalor and back biting."

    Moving around to his side Mizia nodded again a wistful smile on her face. "Or maybe in the Bamboo mountains of Shenkai?"

    Iolaire nodded pulling the woman into his lap before kissing her lips. "Maybe, I'm sure Anneta would prefer those temperate rain-forest to this frozen tundra. So I might get outvoted when the time comes."

    With reddening cheeks as she positioned herself properly she draped her arms over his shoulders and kissed his lips. "If she stays that long with us, isn't the rule if she saves your life her debt is paid and she can go free?"

    Iolaire nodded kissing the top of his wife's chest. "Yes that is the custom, but you like having Elves around. And she could be handy in the future." He gave a slightly lascivious wink.

    Mizia simply rolled her eyes and gave a short nod. "Yes, I'm sure, we can be mothers together, but first we must decide if we're even going to take the puffed up Imperial's offer. He may decide to go find another hunter before we give him our answer."

    Iolaire gave a short barking laugh. "He can look until his Elf is an old maid. While Goldmane and the farmer might be blinded by his Imperial Gold, the number of Hunters in Skye who can even find Grimvald are next to none and trying to find someone who will hold enough renown for Rigmar to notice and not rob blind is even less. Gunther doesn't realize this yet, but I am really his only choice."

    Mizia scooted closer and nodded scooping some soapy water into her hands before pouring them over her hunter's head to begin scrubbing his long straight hair while he amused himself with cleaning her body. "Indeed, that means we may be able to get a little more out of this venture than just coin Cave Bear."

    His hands scrubbed gently across her soft and flexible skin. "Oh?"

    She nods dragging her fingers slowly through the tangled mess of his man's hair.
    "Yes, as much of a Puff Adder as the Emperor is, I feel he'll be quick to reward us for assisting him. And with just the three of us we can likely escape to Shenkai before he tried to betray us. We can ask for good seed and farm animals for our new home. Maybe even enough coin to hire the best workers to build us a small stone keep and work the farms for us."

    Pulling her down Iolaire hugged her body close to his laughing low. "You just want to see me dressed up like the limp-wristed Fops who fill the Imperial Courts. Your bear in a silk suit and cape to laugh at, that's all that is."

    Mizia smiled and kissed him deeply hugging his bull-like neck. "That would be a perk no doubt, but someday we want to have a family. Wouldn't it be nice for our children to have better than we did while still keeping our values close to heart?"

    Iolaire nodded gently and hugged her tighter resting his head on her shoulder. "Yes, it would, but we've been screwed over by Nobles before. It's a trauma I would very much like to avoid again Ice Nymph." His smile fell a little as he gazed down at one his larger wounds on his forearm, caused by be convicted a Kin Slayer.

    Mizia lifted his hand to her chest then kissed his ugly wound. "I know Bear, I know, but maybe then we can go to High King Vigamoar for our reward and asylum. He would never betray a countryman, that loyalty is the only thing that'll keep his grand experiment from failing. Were it up to me Cave Bear, I'd go for it, just set some very firm ground rules. The last thing we need is the little Moon Elf falling into an old mine and getting herself killed cause she did one of her fainting spells."

    With a slow nod Iolaire leaned back into the water pulling Mizia with him. "Sounds good to me, as long as I have you by my side to keep me from doing something stupid and Anneta watching my back to keep the Knight and his play thing from driving a knife into me I suppose we can go on this fool's errand. But now, I think it's time for you to finish that massage Ice Nymph." He pulled the woman down and kissed her passionately his hands and body moving on instinct. Mizia nodded and answered in kind.

    *An hour later*

    Both Mizia and Anneta were asleep upon the bed now. Mizia was dressed in a short white robe with the Blood Elf cuddled up to her back. Iolaire was just wearing a loincloth his heavy scarred hand clasped the door and lock of Dubhar's hovel after having tossed a couple pounds of dried meat into the bird's dish alongside a bucket of water.

    Normally he never locked his Dire Eagle up, but a blizzard was on it's way he could see it in the clouds and as tough as the big bird was he never liked just leaving him out in a storm like that. Easily lifting the cage the big man carried it inside and placed it by the door. Already asleep Iolaire smiled at his hunting friend and sealed the door of his chambers before moving to close up and lock the balcony door. As the only remaining source of cold left the natural heat the room could already be felt in a slight prickling of his skin as the heat battered away the cold.

    It was late, but he had a feeling the Elf and Knight wouldn't be back until the sun was already up in the sky so he wasn't worried. It was decided they would go, but he would definitely set ground rules to keep the arrogance of the Arcane Warrior in check. The man was so quick to fight it almost made Iolaire smile at the thought of likely having to beat the pride out of the Imperial on the road. It would no doubt be enjoyable, but still something best avoided if possible. Mizia had been teaching him control and temperance since she joined him in matrimony, she was also teaching him to read and write and he would hate to disappoint her by ignoring all the lessons on a whim of passion at some cross words from the Southerner. He would be doing this for her, Anneta and whatever future children they might have. With one final check of his room to make sure the fireplace was low and all the windows and doors were locked he let out a big yawn and climbed back into bed pulling his women apart slightly before laying himself down between them wrapping each protectively in his arms before giving each a kiss on the head. He never saw himself as either a husband or a Master in his past, but here he was and a primal sense of happiness filled his savage heart.

    Yes, he would be doing this for them. With a final much smaller yawn Iolaire pulled his two mates close and slipped into a deep sleep.
    Last edited by SikstaSlathalin; 09-26-2019 at 11:24 PM.


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  8. #8
    Knight in Swiss Armor
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    Nearly dragged up to his room at the King's Crown inn, Gunther found the soft lips of the young elf girl pressed up against him as she aggressively pressed him back onto the bed. "Someone's been an impatient little nymph..." he said somewhat teasingly, allowing himself to go with the flow as the elf climbed up onto him.

    "Celine can't help herself... she had to go so long without her Daddy inside her..." the girl spoke up with a soft blush, already slipping in to her bedroom talk. Gunther allowed himself to go along with the extension of the father/daughter act from earlier in the day for quite some time until the young moon elf was satisfied enough to give him a break.

    "Now do you want to tell me what's on your mind?" he asked her, now holding the naked elf close to him in bed and softly stroking her hair. Her anxieties and concerns had not been lost to him, of course, yet he had waited until he had satisfied her physical and emotional desire to be one with him to address them before bringing them up in conversation.

    "I think... we should give the Oriental a chance to talk to her husband before we search for someone else..." she spoke up finally. "She's obviously the brains of that duo, and she's actually a good person, when she's not trying to test you..."

    "He did say that she had liked elves..." the knight pointed out. After a bit of thought, he finally realized something. "OH!" he said, a bit slow to the uptake on certain things. "She likes them that way. No wonder she didn't have a problem with blood elf joining their... whatever they've got going..."

    Giggling a bit at the knight's obliviousness, the elf held a hand to her lips cutely. "She didn't try to sleep with me, if that's what you're wondering. Though whether she did anything with the half-giant after we left... well, that's their business, I suppose."

    "You're awfully defensive of her... I thought you hated carpet munchers, sluts, and blood elves," the knight pointed out. "Are you really so willing to embark on a dangerous expedition with all three?"

    "I do..." the elf murmured quietly. "But the thought of my future husband being lost to me in these northern wastelands is enough to make Celine's love overcome her hate..."

    "I suppose it can't hurt to let them sleep on it, then," the knight murmured. "Speaking of that, you look quite exhausted...."

    Blushing profusely the, elf said, "Celine just got filled up so much by her Daddy, she can't help it! B-but Celine won't sleep... she's not human, after all." Forcing herself up into a sitting position the elf began to enter into a meditative trance... the elven alternative to sleep, though apparently not practiced by all types of elves, considering how the slutty blood elf had apparently been asleep.

    Resting his head on the girl's lap, Gunther allowed himself to drift off to sleep as well, though he woke again in the morning to the sensation of the girl's hunger. "Mmm..." he said, still half asleep as he woke to the pleasant sensation. "Morning, Celine. Did you rest well?"

    Nodding a bit to him, the elf girl said, "Celine feels empty, though." This caused Gunther to laugh a bit, giving a nod and allowing the elf to satisfy herself as much as possible. Her desire for alone time caused him to stay in bed far later than he had originally planned... though he figured that once they set out on the expedition, there might not be as much time to play with her.

    It was approaching noon when the knight spoke up. "Do we really even need a guide? Elves are supposed to be the best guides there are, aren't they?"

    "I'm not a wood elf," the girl said with a pout. "And besides... these lands are too cold for wood elves. And snow elves are Unseelie," she added with no small degree of disgust.

    "What I don't understand is why barbarians hate Imperials so much... it seemed to me that their hatred for the Empire has no factual basis."

    "Well..." the elf ventured. "The giantman is obviously an uneducated ignoramus. But speaking from the perspective of a moon elf... my father always told me not to trust the Empire, as well. Apparently, the elven kingdoms have a long history of being double-crossed by human kings and other nobles. Many of them claiming to have the Emperor's authority."

    "I understand the nobles are typically the least noble people alive, but the Emperor isn't like that. If anything he's... entirely too honest to hold such a high position. Once he makes a deal, he sticks to it."

    "I understand that... but... these people don't see it that way. They've never met our Emperor, and have only heard rumors of the treachery conducted in his name. If you ask me, many of the high-ranking Imperial nobles are in need of a great Purge." By purge, obviously, the elf meant they should all be slaughtered.

    "That would create even further chaos as lesser nobles struggle to fill the power vacuum... the Empire would likely descend into civil war as a result," the knight pointed out. "Now that the Emperor is no longer bound by the single-wife rule that most human nobles practice, I imagine he'll attempt to use royal marriage as a means of maintaining control. On Princess Vanna's wedding night, she brought four virgin queens to her husband's bed, after all."

    "And their princesses, yes," the elf said with a nod. "But adding lechery to the Emperor's list of sins adds credence to some of his other rumored sins..."

    "I suppose you're right," the knight said with a sigh. "Sometimes the best way to win people over is to show, rather than tell." Helping his squire to get dressed, he did so as well before walking her down into the common area of the inn. As the King's Crown was a popular establishment for Imperial merchants and nobles, there was no need for her to put on her disguise as she sat at a table in order to eat breakfast (brunch actually), and so the knight was able to enjoy the beautiful elven features of his young squire a bit longer.
    Last edited by Holeypaladin; 09-14-2019 at 01:33 AM.

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  9. #9
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    The doors of the King's Crown inn swung open and the patrons all looked up as a female Blood Elf entered. Looking around she smiled and began moving towards Gunther and Celine. But a man dressed like a Bouncer intercepted her. "No Blood Elves allowed." He reached his hand out to grab her, but she stepped back and clicked her tongue moving to the side showing him the symbol of an eagle carrying two spears in it's claws adorned in red on the shoulder of her cloak. "Easy there Imperial lapdog, do anything to me and my master will be seeing you within the hour."

    The man's hand quickly fell back. "You belong to Iolaire Sealgair Elf? Weren't you fighting in the Arena against him yesterday?"

    Anneta smirked waving the man away. "We made a deal now move aside Southerner, I have business with the shiny guy and mooncalf at that table." The man grunted and moved back to his spot by the wall and the knight and other Elf. She started walking again now the pair are able to see her fully now. She was dressed far more practically than any time last night. She still had the fur vest on, but under it she was wearing a leather tunic with fur around the neck. She wore studded leather gauntlets that went up to her elbow. Her black cloak surrounded her like a big bear and looked warm enough to work like a tent. She wore long form fitting trousers that were tucked into black leather boots with metal shin guards. Lastly at her hip was the sword she fought with last night cleaned up and shining like a new coin. Her hair was done up in a slightly messy warrior's bun and she studied the pair with a knowing smirk.

    Walking up to the table she reached over and plucked some food from Celen's plate giving her a teasing big sister smirk. "My Master knew you lowlanders would be layabouts unable tell time. He also knew I'd find you here. Going out of your sensible way cause you're afraid of getting dirty, he's waiting at the front gates. Grab your stuff and walk there." She took a sip if Celene's drink now finishing the cup before placing it back down. "You may wanna dress less like a whore Moony." She leaned down and patted the other Elf's cheek soundly smirking more. "It's cold outside and magic won't save you from the Albain cold." She leaned back and winked at the knight. "And be sure you walk, my lord already thinks your lazy showing up with a teleportation spell won't impress him. And I can always tell when magic has been used." Flipping her cloak around she left the inn returning to Iolarie's side.


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  10. #10
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    The words "No Blood Elves allowed" caused Gunther to begin eating his breakfast a bit faster, as he already knew that the barbarian had decided to try and test Celine by sending his new sex toy as a messenger. Though the official Imperial policy was to allow all races, even the occasional orc, in practice racism was very much a part of human culture, though he most certainly didn't think of himself as a "Southerner" as the blood elf claimed... that title was more belonging to the jungle-dwelling savages that harasses the southern territories of the Empire, who were even worse than these northern barbarians.

    The moon elf frowned as the blood elf took a sip of her drink. "How rude..." she remarked, having no such desire to take another drink now that her cup had been sullied by Anneta's lips. "I would think even your kind would have manners befitting a proper elf..." While it was clear that the blood elf was doing everything she could to try and upset her, she giggled somewhat as she mentioned dressing like a whore. "Oh, you needn't worry about that. If I wanted to dress like a whore... well, I'd dress exactly like you," she retorted. She flinched at the touch of the blood elf, as if simply physical contact was enough to infect her with the girl's STDs. Still, she soon headed back up to her room to put on a bit more clothing.

    "You might want to stop referring to him as your Master," the knight said as he stood up as well. "I know you're used to that master-slave relationship, but from what I gathered during my brief interaction with the barbarian, he considers himself neither a lord nor a master. I could be wrong, I suppose, but it couldn't hurt to ask him how he'd prefer to be addressed."

    Standing up, he turned to look at Celine, who was now descending, dressed in a white cloak made from the fur of a winter wolf... a fairy beast that could breathe frost breath and possessed an immunity to frost-based attacks itself. The enchanted cloak provided sufficient frost resistance for even arctic climates, not to mention the fact that it was fashionable. "More fitting a wood elf, I suppose," the elf commented on wearing the fur of an animal as a garment, "But it should suffice." She pulled the hood up to hide her elven ears, rather than using magic to disguise herself this time, as she headed for the door, which Gunther politely held open for her.

    "Do we really have to walk all the way to the front gates? I'm a bit sore..." the elf whined a bit, blushing as she thought of all the things he had done to her the previous night to make her so sore.

    Gunther made his way towards the gate with the elf's arm locked with his own. "Only as far as the gates. It would be rather pompous of us to summon a magical steed in the middle of town, would it not? Particularly in a town such as this, where primitive superstitions are stronger than enlightened education." He was referring, of course, to the fact that northern barbarians hated magic and those who wielded it.

    "Fine..." she murmured. "This cloak really is warm..." she said, wrapping it more around herself as the soft, magical fur of the fairy beast embraced her in its warmth.

    Holey Paladin's armor by Haya

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