The Northmarches (IC)

[kermitphrogg114]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)
The cowgirl behind the bar thinks for a moment, rapping her fingers against the countertop. "Duravor, huh? I'm pretty sure we've had someone like that in here on occasion. Not recently, though. If you're looking for a dwarf, you might want to ask the mayor. Old Man Bruenor's been looking after this town since my before my granddad's time, and dwarves tend to stick together, you know?"

"I understand what you mean," Raagen replies, sipping the rest of her drink. "So what time should I go see Mayor Bruenor, and is he a busy person this time of year?"

[Mark3000]

Penelope smiled as she was given the freedom to explore. Of course that smile was wiped clean when Arden mentioned they would be sharing a room. Finished her mead, trying not to spit out her drink in surprised. "How very considerate of you" She said, even though she knew that Arden had some role in the stew incident. 'Next you'll say that there's only one bed in the room" Penelope thought to herself. Finishing her oatbread, she continued to banter with the other Fangs. Penelope wouldn't leave to explore the town until they were finished at the table.

[Firehead]

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The farmer gives a disappointing shake of his head when you ask as to Elias' whereabouts. "Afraid I can't say that I have. You're the only Lupo I've seen in quite a while, unfortunately."

It's of little consolation, but it doesn't take too much longer for the smell of food to begin wafting through the cottage, the laborer keeping you engaged with some light conversation in the interim. Your host goes off to check on the meal and, deciding it's more or less done, begins to serve up the offering in simple wooden bowls; it seems to be some kind of meat based stew, the hardy kind to keep the cold at bay. It pairs well with the cider on offer, which is continuously offered to you as you drink.

Roll: Intoxication (Elvara), Con vs ???
Result: 9 (8+1) vs 13 (13), fail

Perhaps because you'd had some on an empty stomach, the cider does seem to hit you fairly hard, but not so much that you're wholly inebriated. Instead you find yourself enjoying a nice buzz, your body even warmer than it had been when the fire got going.

Elvara nodded as he told her that he hadn't seen her brother. She smiled putting on a brave face. "Well, I know he's heading for Esterwyn. That just means he must have approached the city from another direction." She continued to converse with him as they waited for the food to cook. It was hard to keep track of how much she was drinking between the strength of the drink and how he never let her mug empty.

Looking down at the stew, she takes a deep breath of it knowing it will warm her after the long day's walk. In fact, she was feeling a bit warm from the drink alone. She quickly removed her heavy cloak hanging it on the back of her chair. "Thank you for the food. It smells very delicious, and I can't wait to dig in." Taking the utensil, she got a spoonful of broth and meat not even trying to cool it before she took a quick bite and chased it with another gulp of alcohol to cool her tongue.

[Lorielle]

Eliza Asara (Lorielle)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"What do you mean abandon my wagon? Do you have any idea how much this cargo is worth? There's no way I'm abandoning this wagon!" The goblin woman exclaims as she watches you pace around the perimeter. At your claim that her choice of travel was irresponsible, she hmphs.

"Local wildlife is nothing compared to the chaos of the midlands. Besides, wolves aren't even supposed to attack wagons! There was no way to account for this," she watches you carefully as you slide your halberd away and prepare to head off. "Wh- What do you mean you'll be on your way? You can't just leave me out here! That's not very... knightly, of you! Besides, you'll never make it to town before nightfall, and you'll attract more wolves, bleeding like that."

You're not entirely convinced about that last part, but she seems confident in her assertion, if only because the alternative would involve her being left behind.

Eliza is facing away from the wagon when the goblin woman mentions that she wasnt going to get too far while bleeding. The goblin wouldnt be able to see the paladin roll her eyes. Instead she took in a deep breath and held up her free hand. The energy of her goddess gathering in it as she presses it to her leg and she cures her wound right in front of the goblin. "I believe I should be fine, and the wolves werent out for blood." Her voice ticking up in volume for the woman to hear as she feels the energy course through her veins, easing some of her pain.

She turns back the woman with a slight glare on her face. "I've upheld my duty to defend the helpless, It is not within my oaths to defend your merchandise, nor am I a simply a knight for hire. I have my quest and I'll be on my way if you truly believe your cargo is worth that much to you." She begins to move back to her own camp, needing to pack it up then make her way to the nearest town before nightfall.

[Mashugana]

"Ah, my thanks then." Crosses responds, feeling a touch guilty. "Thank you for that, this area will take some getting used to-"

He stopped at feeling something striking his calf, glancing down at the table as if he could try and see through it to what was going down below, before glancing back up to Alissa, the faintest hint of puzzlement and slight fluster on his face. Coughing politely into his arm sleeve to hide his embarrassment, he pressed on, not moving his calf from the half elf's attentions.

"... some getting used to. On that note, do you know of any work that needs doing or where some could be found? I have some funds on me now, but I plan on staying in this city for a while at least." Crosses didn't really ask about a place to stay long term, figuring that worst case scenario, he could potentially sleep in a stable or find some crude shelter to take place in if the inn didn't have any open rooms. The thought of staying at this one made him shift a little in his seat, his legs opening outwards just a touch more.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"Probably in the morning, seeing as it's getting dark. He's busy all year round, comes with the territory of running a town," the barkeeper answers with a swish of her tail, "You got a specific reason to be looking for him? Usually people come up this way to not be found. Not that you look like the bounty hunting sort."

Penelope Delights (Mark3000)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"I'm nothing if not a considerate man," Arden lies as easily as he breathes, refocusing his attention on the mug in his hand as the conversation picks up where it left off before your return. It's typical fare, half split between the tactical and the bawdy, a combination discussion of potential logistical issues of keeping supplied this far north that eventually devolves into how long any one of them would be able to last while being ridden by the minotaur behind the bar before cracking a pelvis. Eventually, a few of the Fangs decide to turn in early, seeking the comfort of a soft bed after a long journey. As they wander from the table to go collect their keys from the aforementioned barkeeper, Arden gestures vaguely towards you with his mug.

"Don't stick around for my sake. I'll be seeing plenty of you tonight," he declares as his drinks down the last of his ale and bangs the table to signal for another, "I'll make sure to ask for extra blankets, to help with how frigid you tend to be."

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Roll: Intoxication (Elvara), Con vs ???
Result: 9 (8+1) vs 18 (18), fail

Eating the stew proves to be thirsty work, especially when you can hardly keep yourself from devouring it before it has cooled. Luckily your mug is scarcely allowed to empty, and a consistent flow of sweet, boozy cider continues to fill your belly in tandem with the meal. If having warm supper in your stomach wasn't enough to lift your mood, the alcohol certainly does; the buzz in your head evolves into a light airiness, and though you're seated, you'd certainly be tipsy if you were standing for your meal.

"Y'know, if you're gettin' a bit hot, you can take more off. No need to be shy on my behalf." The farmer assures you as he sips at his own drink. It's not exactly an open secret that he had been casting a few looks your way since you shed your cloak. His eyes especially seemed to peer towards your chest, trying to gauge its outline through your jerkin. It's perhaps a little understandable, given the situation, and although it might be the liquid courage in your veins, it certainly felt nice to be appreciated in that way.

Eliza Asara (Lorielle)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"That is not how that works! That is almost certainly not how that works! Defend the helpless my ass!" The goblin woman barks from the safety of her wagon as you wander away to gather the belongings you had set aside when coming to her aid. It's unlikely that you'll manage to reach Esterwyn before dark, especially given your little detour, but finding elsewhere to set up camp will at least give you some distance from the noisy merchant.

Or so you thought. You don't manage to get even out of eyesight of the stranded wagon before you hear a rustling behind you. An inspection reveals the just over waist height goblin hustling her way in your general direction, with what looks to be a trunk haphazardly strapped to her back like some kind of impromptu backpack, which consequently is the source of the jingling and rustling. As she stops just before you, she shoots you a pathetic looking glare.

"Jerk."

Crosses the River (Mashugana)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Although she very obviously sees you peek beneath the table, Alissa seems entirely oblivious. She simply rests an arm on the table, using her hand to support her cheek as she hums thoughtfully to herself.

"Well, the owner of this place is something of a contact for a lot of the adventuring sort. She used to be an adventurer herself, before she settled down to run the family business. Pretty sure her dad did the same back in his day, and his dad before him. Pretty crazy tradition, huh?" She asks rhetorically, "You could always ask her if she has anything that needs doing. She'll handle finding the jobs and collecting the payment, then pass it on to you after she takes a little fee. Pretty good deal if you ask me. Although, I work for her, so maybe I'm not the most trustworthy. I look trustworthy though, right?"

It's a bit hard to follow her along, not because of her chattiness and generally quick talking, but because of her under-the-table maneuvering; she must have clearly taken your shifting as an invitation, because over the din of the other patrons you can hear the sound of her shoe clattering against the wooden floor below. Her foot slides up along your calf again, going all the way up to gently stroke along your inner thigh as she speaks. Eventually it finds its way further between your legs, her stocking-clad sole running up and down your cock and balls through the material of your pants.

"You should definitely stay here, though. I'm sure you'll be able to afford if with all the coin you make, and I can say with authority there is some very pleasant company to be had," you can practically see the mischief glinting in her eye at the implication, "That sound interesting to you, big guy? Unwinding with some company tonight? You seem like you could really, really use it."

[kermitphrogg114]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)
"Probably in the morning, seeing as it's getting dark. He's busy all year round, comes with the territory of running a town," the barkeeper answers with a swish of her tail, "You got a specific reason to be looking for him? Usually people come up this way to not be found. Not that you look like the bounty hunting sort."

"I was asked to deliver a message to him, and I already was on my way here to explore the various ruins and mystic sites that are spread across your fair - if rather cold - region," she explains. "Call it academic interest. I figured I'd just deliver the letter quickly and be on my way. Shows how much I knew...

"Right now, I don't know if Duravor is actively trying to hide, or if this is just his usual travels. I was told he liked to wander, test his skills. He's certainly testing my skills to keep up."

[Firehead]

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Roll: Intoxication (Elvara), Con vs ???
Result: 9 (8+1) vs 18 (18), fail

Eating the stew proves to be thirsty work, especially when you can hardly keep yourself from devouring it before it has cooled. Luckily your mug is scarcely allowed to empty, and a consistent flow of sweet, boozy cider continues to fill your belly in tandem with the meal. If having warm supper in your stomach wasn't enough to lift your mood, the alcohol certainly does; the buzz in your head evolves into a light airiness, and though you're seated, you'd certainly be tipsy if you were standing for your meal.

"Y'know, if you're gettin' a bit hot, you can take more off. No need to be shy on my behalf." The farmer assures you as he sips at his own drink. It's not exactly an open secret that he had been casting a few looks your way since you shed your cloak. His eyes especially seemed to peer towards your chest, trying to gauge its outline through your jerkin. It's perhaps a little understandable, given the situation, and although it might be the liquid courage in your veins, it certainly felt nice to be appreciated in that way.

Getting a bit tipsy, Elvara was finding it harder to keep up the manners she'd picked up in these so-called civilized lands wolfing down her food and letting loose with a belch before remembering herself. "Sorry, I forgot myself for a moment." She took another sip of her drink trying to calm her stomach a little. She blushed a little as he mentioned he wouldn't mind her removing a little more to keep herself cool.

She certainly was warming up again even without her heavy cloak. Perhaps a mix of the food and the drink though she attempted to ignore the effect the looks were having on her. What was she thinking? She was starting to feel like a pup in her first season all over again. And for a human, no less? No human had ever paid her more than a passing glance let alone such obvious looks of interest, but she really did need to cool off before she did something regrettable. "Perhaps you're right." Reaching for a few buckles, she released them one by one until she could slip the vest over her head. Underneath, she wore a thing shift keeping the fur from rubbing against her fur and flesh underneath, but it was a thin garment by necessity, so she wasn't exactly comfortable wearing only it in front of a stranger. She pulled the mug to her lips intending to take another small sip. Just enough to settle her nerves.

[Mark3000]

"As considerate as always, Arden" Penelope said as she got up and left the inn. Despite her present company, Penelope had been eager to see more of the realm. She at least wanted to see a bit more of Esterwyn before dealing with whatever Arden was planning tonight.

It was darker then Penelope had thought, she doubted there would be any shops open. Instead, she walked through the small hamlet looking for a place she might practice her swordsplay, all the while taking in the sights. She made sure to get in at least three hundred swings in a day before sleeping, and the constant travel hadn't given her that chance to practice.

She also kept her eyes out for anywhere that might be considered a brothel. Not for herself, but based on a bit of advice her mother gave her. 'If you every lose track of one of the men. Check the closest brothel. More often then not they'll be there' she said before Penelope departed on her mission. "I'm going to be risking my life and that's your advice for me" Penelope muttered under her breath as she walked the streets.

[Lorielle]

Eliza Asara (Lorielle)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"That is not how that works! That is almost certainly not how that works! Defend the helpless my ass!" The goblin woman barks from the safety of her wagon as you wander away to gather the belongings you had set aside when coming to her aid. It's unlikely that you'll manage to reach Esterwyn before dark, especially given your little detour, but finding elsewhere to set up camp will at least give you some distance from the noisy merchant.

Or so you thought. You don't manage to get even out of eyesight of the stranded wagon before you hear a rustling behind you. An inspection reveals the just over waist height goblin hustling her way in your general direction, with what looks to be a trunk haphazardly strapped to her back like some kind of impromptu backpack, which consequently is the source of the jingling and rustling. As she stops just before you, she shoots you a pathetic looking glare.

"Jerk."

There was a tiny groan that escaped out of Eliza's mouth when she heard the rustling behind her. While she wouldnt turn her back on those who needed help, she did tend to have something against those who take her help for granted. She rolled her eyes though and resumed her usual temperament, wanting to appear proper, at least the goblin woman took her advice about abandoning the wagon, though couldnt bare to not abandon the majority of the cargo it seemed.

"I am simply abiding by the tenets of my order, whatever you bring with you is your issue not ours," Eliza laid out as plainly as possible. "I planned to reach Esterwyn by tomorrow, that meant marching through the night, i'll make a single stop to rest for food, but i dont plan to rest for sleep. You will keep up or you will abandon your wares." Eliza turned back and headed back to her camp to pack as soon as she could not even wanting to entertain a potential argument from the supposed goblin merchant.

Her tenet was Defend the helpless, not "Act as a merchant guard for someone who could have easily afforded protection because they were too greedy to part with their wares on an ill-advised and seemingly poorly planned trip into the wilderness"

[Lazy Kitsune]

Lula Bucker

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Roll: Persuasion (Lula), Cha vs Wis
Result: 12 (2+4+3+3) vs 21 (19+2), fail

Roll: Perception (Lula), Wis vs ???
Result: 5 (6-1) vs 11 (10+1), fail

Your goading only seems to irritate the wolfman opposite you the campfire, and sensing the tensions boiling, Sigmund interjects.

"Now, there's no reason to try turning brother against brother over a couple of marks. We'll all have our fun in due time, so let's not say anything to ruin the evening." The presumably eldest of the sibling insists. Perhaps to try and set an example, he reaches to his belt with the hand that isn't busying itself in stroking circles along your hip and fishes out what must be a few coins. There's a soft clink as he drops two silver coins into the hat between your legs. Sverre follows thereafter, fishing out three of of his own which he promptly drops into the hat to join with the others, handing you a second die in the process. Stane eventually does the same, although it's hard to tell whether his own contribution of three marks is a peace offering or spite. Either way, with a bounty of eight marks in the pot, you prepare to roll the die, although doing so regrettably causes Sigmund to leave your side for the sake of fairness, the clawed fingers that had been so carefully tracing their way along the edge of your mound going with him.

Roll: Dice Results
Result: 5, 4

As the dice fly, each brother declares their bet: Sigmund chooses evens while Sverre chooses over seven, as does Stane. It seems as though you earned two marks off this particular round, and owe six minutes each to the two victors.

Stane seemed unusually disgruntled by the situation, even with her lowering the price like he asked. It wasn't a reaction she was unused to, men were often prideful and entitled to having things tailored to them. But it didn't speak well of him if his brother felt the need to intervene over a game of chance that didn't require him to spend any more than he was comfortable spending. And it was always the smaller dicked ones that got aggravated the most by teasing... or was it that she kept calling them small dicked? Ah, now her own bratty habits had confused even herself.

Still, sucking a man's cock tends to help them relax. Just as long as he kept to enjoying her body on her terms there wouldn't be need for any fuss.

What rotten luck. Normally Lula would be winning out more than she'd be losing, yet somehow the only brother to lose bet only a measly two silver. With the odds as they were she should be winning out just over half the time, but bad rolls happen and it wasn't like she didn't enjoy what happened when she lost. She had hoped Sigmund would have been among the winners, she was quite enjoying his touch, but maybe the other two were just as good.

"Well sink me deep! Seems like lady luck is on your side, mateys. That's six minutes of free fun for the two of you. Feel free to grab your coin back while I stash my own winnings." Lula says, plucking out the two coins she won as she looked between the two winners.

As they both bet the same amount, neither Of the two were guaranteed to go first. She definitely preferred Sverre. The whole quiet thing he had going on was quite cute, and the fact that the dice seemed to be his made him feel like a kindred spirit. So if she had to choose who to go first, it would be him. Although it was possible they had a way of deciding that themselves, or they may even want to go at the same time.

"So, which of you two wants to get your reward first? Or do you want to keep betting and see if you can get a larger haul all in one go?" she asked as she pulled out her coin purse to slip away her winnings.

[Mashugana]

Crosses held as best he could, finding it increasingly difficult to keep focus on the conversation with how much was going on under the table as the idea of spending the night with a very warm, very friendly bedmate was presented by Alissa, further compounded by her fondling. Stiffening in more ways than one, he looked deep inside himself for his resolve, after all, had a task for his people, he couldn't be playing around with women, right? Right?

"I... I would like that very much." He admitted, feeling a pang of shame at his lack of will. "After I meet the owner, if that's alright." He added hastily, seemingly desperate to at least try and be productive in the face of... defeet.

The young brave tried to shift back, but found his seat to be too crowded in to truly escape while she played with him, and looking down and away from that devilish, smiling face didn't exactly do him any favors, since at that point it was either her chest, the drinks or what he could see going on in his lap. It seemed that city people were fearsome in their own right as he found himself glancing around, both to try and act normal, which was not happening at all, to see if he could spot someone authoritative in the building, and to try and not show his flustered expression to Alissa, but a poker face that's clearly starting to crack, with a visible flush on the ears is impossible to hide.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"All this for a letter, huh? Must be pretty important. I can't tell you whether or not Duravor's going to make himself known any time soon, but I can go get your room settled if you'd like. Bit early to turn in, but you seem like you could use the rest. Unless you had something else to talk about." The barkeeper says, absentmindedly going about her duties as she speaks to you, which mainly just involves pouring drinks and setting them for the servers to swing by and collect.

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad someone is enjoyin' my hardwork, myself besides," The farmer offers opposite your apology. When you cave to the warmth and undo the buckles of your jerkin, his eyes begin to trace your body again, and when you finally slide off the hardened hide and reveal your underclothes, you're met with a surprising response.

"Good girl."

Roll: Seduction (Farmer), Cha vs Wis
Results: 9 (9) vs 8 (10-1-2), success
Lust: 5 (5)

It's a simple enough phrase, the kind one might offer to a pet, but one which stirs at least a little something inside you. Embarrassment? Excitement? Arousal? It's hard to tell, with the alcohol clouding your mind as it does, but the way he praises you does something. You must be doing something for him as well, as he can't keep his eyes off your bust now that he can make it out better through the thin fabric of your underclothes. It's certainly the first time a human has shown such interest in you, and, well, if things keep going as they are, the night might have another first with a human in store.

"The drinks treatin' you well? You seem a bit flushed. Could get you a place to lay down, if you need. 'Course, the night's still young, an' I got a couple of ideas to pass some time."

Penelope Delights (Mark3000)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

You find night time to be rather peaceful, up north. The air is noticeably chillier than when you arrived at the inn, especially noticeable now that you've left the warmth of the hearth behind. The chill must encourage folks to head home early, as the streets have mostly cleared from the hustle and bustle that greeted you initially. It gives you the opportunity to explore the streets at your leisure, although you can't quite find a brothel anywhere in the town. Either they lack for one, or the ones they do have are simply more subtle about their advertising. You do, however, manage to find what looks to be a training yard towards the outskirts of the city. It's attached to fairly large, single story building with multiple halls connected. A barracks, you easily recognize. There doesn't seem to be too much activity within, so using the space might be a good way to get your daily training in, although you might always risk alerting the few that might be inside.

Eliza Asara (Lorielle)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"March through the night? Why would you ever wanna do that? Do you have any clue how cold it gets out here? And what good will you even be tomorrow if you don't sleep? And abandon my wares? You think I'm gonna abandon my cash in the middle of the wilderness because of some self-righteous time table? As if!" The goblin woman continues her babbling as you finish packing up your belongings. The road continues to wind on even as the sun disappears entirely, and darkness begins to blanket the path ahead of you, with only the stars and moon providing their light for navigation. The merchant seems marginally more tolerable during the actual walking itself, if only because she seems to talk less when not caught up in indignation. She even proves useful in a few scenarios, pointing out uneven portions of the road through the veil of nightfall, undoubtedly because her race's propensity for the dark.

Eventually, the path leads you through a portion of the plains that seems to be dominated by a large, singular hill that the road carefully winds around. Even in the moonlight, it seems somewhat out of place.

Roll: Knowledge (Eliza), Int vs ???
Result: 19 (20-1), success

Roll: Perception, Eliza, Wis vs ???
Result: 8 (8) vs 20 (19+1), fail.

Of course, you recall reading about these; it's a barrow, ancient burial mounds that dot the Northmarches. They belonged to the so-called Barrow Kings, who lived and ruled portions of the frontier long before Andova had reached these lands. They were little more than barbarians, in truth, albeit ones with great enough strength to battle with the nearby elven cities and carry on to tell the tale.

"It's definitely getting colder. I told you it was a bad idea not to camp. We could have stayed with the wagon, with the blankets. I might have even let you sleep inside! But nooo, we had to hurry along to Esterwyn," The lamentations of your suddenly chummy guest aren't totally without merit; it is getting colder. Colder than you can remember it being throughout your tireless march to the north. As wisps of your breath cloud the air in front of your face, you get a sinking sense of dread, but nothing more.

Lula Bucker (LazyKitsune)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

With the game decided, the victors are left to claim their spoils. Sigmund seems rather disappointed not to be taking part, but it's not like he's alone in that considering your own feelings on the matter, and there was always the possibility for consolation prizes later on. Stane seems pleased enough with the outcome, and Sverre does as well, although he seem a little more nervous about the entire affair, with the way his eyes dart across your body. While you slide away the two silvers wagered, the victors reclaim their own from the hat. When the matter of who gets the pleasure of claiming their forfeit first comes up, the two younger brothers exchange glances, and Stane is ultimately the one who speaks up, leaning back on his rock.

"He can go first. He likes redheads." The wolfman declares, infinite in his generosity. Sverre certainly doesn't seem bothered by the priority, although he must be at least a little embarrassed by the declaration of his preferences. As he turns his attention to you, he reaches down to slide his hauberk out of the way and begins to unfasten the thick leather belt the holds his trousers up.

"I'd like you to... erm, you know. Play with it for me, while we kiss."

Crosses the River (Mashugana)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Your discomfort does not go without notice. Problem was, it only encouraged Alissa in her careful ministrations. She certainly seems to enjoy teasing you, and your submission to your desires only emboldens her. The foot between your thighs seems to quicken its ministrations, giving your rapidly hardening shaft little respite as you desperately search for distractions. You get a brief reprieve when you mention wanting to meet the owner first hand, the half-elf giving you a pout that comes with a pause in her simulations.

"Aww, you wanna get away from me that bad? I thought we were having a good time," says with mock indignation in her tone, "Besides, I don't think you want to go waltzing up to her in your current state. You're very tense in certain places right now, aren't you?"

It's definitely a rhetorical question, as she grinds the sole of her foot along your shaft as she emphasizes her words. It's a good enough point; walking around with a tent in your pants was a sure way to get looks in such a crowded tavern. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily depending on your threshold for shame, she seems to have a solution. The flirty barmaid pulls her foot away from your groin, giving you a few moments to center yourself, but quickly blows away any of that comfort by picking up her chair and dragging it over to your side of the table. She sets it down beside you and plops herself into it, inviting herself into your personal space once again as she leans into your arm, letting her hefty bust press into your bicep.

"B~ut. I think I can help with that. I'm very good at helping people relax, remember? I'll help you get rid of all that nasty tension you've got backed up." She asks, as if she hadn't made that amply clear already, her voice dropping down to a whisper as she leans in a little closer. You can feel her hand land on your thigh, and she strokes it thoughtfully as she talks, each time moving a little further up towards your groin until she's cupping it through your leathers.

"Wanna know a little secret? I didn't bring you back here just because you're shy around people. I brought you back here because, if you lean back just right, that beam over there makes it impossible for people to see you squirm," Her fingers begin to go for your belt at that point, fiddling with it carefully, "You gonna let me make you squirm, big guy?"

[Mark3000]

Penelope loved the peaceful atmosphere of the city. It was a pleasant change to the hustle and bustle of the Wayward Fang's base. She would love the walk the streets when the sun rises.

She eventually finds the barracks and the training yard attached to it. Hopefully, whoever occupied the barracks wouldn't mind her using the space to practice. Entering the yard, Penelope brandished her claymore and took her usual fighting stance.

"One, Two, Three" Penelope said as she began swing her blade vertically, then horizontally. She repeated these swings until she reached her prerequisite, all while trying her best not to awake the barrack's inhabitants.

[Firehead]

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad someone is enjoyin' my hardwork, myself besides," The farmer offers opposite your apology. When you cave to the warmth and undo the buckles of your jerkin, his eyes begin to trace your body again, and when you finally slide off the hardened hide and reveal your underclothes, you're met with a surprising response.

"Good girl."

Roll: Seduction (Farmer), Cha vs Wis
Results: 9 (9) vs 8 (10-1-2), success
Lust: 5 (5)

It's a simple enough phrase, the kind one might offer to a pet, but one which stirs at least a little something inside you. Embarrassment? Excitement? Arousal? It's hard to tell, with the alcohol clouding your mind as it does, but the way he praises you does something. You must be doing something for him as well, as he can't keep his eyes off your bust now that he can make it out better through the thin fabric of your underclothes. It's certainly the first time a human has shown such interest in you, and, well, if things keep going as they are, the night might have another first with a human in store.

"The drinks treatin' you well? You seem a bit flushed. Could get you a place to lay down, if you need. 'Course, the night's still young, an' I got a couple of ideas to pass some time."

Elvara blushes as she finds the mildly older male gazing at her only harder as she reveals her rather thin underclothing. Her first male was also older than her, but at the time, he had been younger than she was now. It was normal for those just coming of age in her pack to have their first time with an older, more experienced partner usually someone barely past their twentieth year. The common wisdom was that it provided a better first experience than two virgins fumbling awkwardly with no idea of what they were doing.

She shivered when he called her a good girl. She'd only been called that once since she'd come of age reminding her further of her first time awkwardly exploring an older male's body while he guided her chuckling at her fumbles and guiding her firmly. The two of them even had the same tone to it. Deep and domineering. She turned a little to the side putting her arms in front of herself to try and hide herself from his gaze. "Yes, the food and drink is good." She considered taking his out and sleeping it off, but her curiosity was piqued. "What did you have in mind?" She could always just ask for a place to sleep if she didn't like his idea.

[Lorielle]

Eliza Asara (Lorielle)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"March through the night? Why would you ever wanna do that? Do you have any clue how cold it gets out here? And what good will you even be tomorrow if you don't sleep? And abandon my wares? You think I'm gonna abandon my cash in the middle of the wilderness because of some self-righteous time table? As if!" The goblin woman continues her babbling as you finish packing up your belongings. The road continues to wind on even as the sun disappears entirely, and darkness begins to blanket the path ahead of you, with only the stars and moon providing their light for navigation. The merchant seems marginally more tolerable during the actual walking itself, if only because she seems to talk less when not caught up in indignation. She even proves useful in a few scenarios, pointing out uneven portions of the road through the veil of nightfall, undoubtedly because her race's propensity for the dark.

Eventually, the path leads you through a portion of the plains that seems to be dominated by a large, singular hill that the road carefully winds around. Even in the moonlight, it seems somewhat out of place.

Roll: Knowledge (Eliza), Int vs ???
Result: 19 (20-1), success

Roll: Perception, Eliza, Wis vs ???
Result: 8 (8) vs 20 (19+1), fail.

Of course, you recall reading about these; it's a barrow, ancient burial mounds that dot the Northmarches. They belonged to the so-called Barrow Kings, who lived and ruled portions of the frontier long before Andova had reached these lands. They were little more than barbarians, in truth, albeit ones with great enough strength to battle with the nearby elven cities and carry on to tell the tale.

"It's definitely getting colder. I told you it was a bad idea not to camp. We could have stayed with the wagon, with the blankets. I might have even let you sleep inside! But nooo, we had to hurry along to Esterwyn," The lamentations of your suddenly chummy guest aren't totally without merit; it is getting colder. Colder than you can remember it being throughout your tireless march to the north. As wisps of your breath cloud the air in front of your face, you get a sinking sense of dread, but nothing more.

The goblin’s moaning certainly didn’t help Eliza’s perception of her, but she rarely had a decent time out of merchants, always droning on about profit or how much they’d lose due to their ill advised trips. Though unfortunately the small woman was correct about the weather. The wind chill was severe enough for even an Aasimar to feel it. Her conviction and blazing spirit unable to defend this harsh weather. She had lived in lush rolling plains all her life and only packed the bare minimum cold weather gear: mittens, a slightly thicker jacket, and trousers. It should help a little bit she knew she was going to be woefully unprepared. But as she spotted the mound.. she knew the stories well enough that it would be a mistake to stay near a barrow for too long.. but if the temperature kept dropping she’d just be putting herself and the goblin in the path of undue harm.

“Fine we’ll find shelter for the night. We’re going into that Barrow it should be well shielded from the elements, just do not touch anything! Got it? Places like those are usually heavily cursed to deter trespassers.” She says as she begins to make her move to the mound, keeping an eye out for an entrance while checking on the globlin to make sure she got through the to barrow.

[kermitphrogg114]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)
"All this for a letter, huh? Must be pretty important. I can't tell you whether or not Duravor's going to make himself known any time soon, but I can go get your room settled if you'd like. Bit early to turn in, but you seem like you could use the rest. Unless you had something else to talk about." The barkeeper says, absentmindedly going about her duties as she speaks to you, which mainly just involves pouring drinks and setting them for the servers to swing by and collect.

"To be honest, I was told to meet up with Duravor, talk to him, wasn't told about what exactly," she replies. "I'm supposed to give him a letter to fill him in. After that, well, not sure. I wasn't told much, but it seemed important.

"Of course, if he's not in town, I still have something to pass the time," she continues. "What can you tell me about the nearby ruins in the forest? Any juicy rumors?"

[Mashugana]

"Well, it's just that I was hoping to finish some business is all!" Crosses managed to get out while Alissa continued stroking him, almost yelping in surprise when she pushed forward especially strongly, feeling the arch of her foot almost stroke him along like a hand and desperately hoping nobody was feeling voyeuristic. When she got up, he felt a combination of relief and, though he hated to admit it, disappointment, but both emotions died quickly once she came round.

Now that she'd come over to his side of the table, Crosses really was cornered, trying to almost back into the wall while the half elf leaned against his arm and side, restricting one arm's movements and reaching down towards his crotch, the simple hide pants and belt under attack. Inwardly, he wondered if this wasn't how a rabbit felt when it was cornered by a fox, trapped in it's warren.

"I..." he started, glancing over her shoulder for some faint, desperate hope of rescue, but finding none. Taking her advice, he leaned backwards in the hope that Alissa wasn't fibbing about the beam. Still, as he sat there getting fondled and touched, he tried to steady himself, he couldn't just take this lying down, right? She couldn't just completely have her way with him and this entire interaction!

With an odd, tiny gleam of defiance in his eyes, Crosses took off his gloves while she fiddled with his belt and slid his captured arm and hand down towards the half elf's own skirt covered groin, letting her press against his chest partially if she didn't move herself. Perhaps attempting to make a counter offensive? "...Yes, I would." He said, admitting defeat and deciding to give up on resisting that fight. "It'd be rude and foolish to refuse at this point, no?"

[Lazy Kitsune]

Lula Bucker

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

With the game decided, the victors are left to claim their spoils. Sigmund seems rather disappointed not to be taking part, but it's not like he's alone in that considering your own feelings on the matter, and there was always the possibility for consolation prizes later on. Stane seems pleased enough with the outcome, and Sverre does as well, although he seem a little more nervous about the entire affair, with the way his eyes dart across your body. While you slide away the two silvers wagered, the victors reclaim their own from the hat. When the matter of who gets the pleasure of claiming their forfeit first comes up, the two younger brothers exchange glances, and Stane is ultimately the one who speaks up, leaning back on his rock.

"He can go first. He likes redheads." The wolfman declares, infinite in his generosity. Sverre certainly doesn't seem bothered by the priority, although he must be at least a little embarrassed by the declaration of his preferences. As he turns his attention to you, he reaches down to slide his hauberk out of the way and begins to unfasten the thick leather belt the holds his trousers up.

"I'd like you to... erm, you know. Play with it for me, while we kiss."

Lula rises to her feet and saunters over to Sverre. "Why so nervous, all of a sudden? You're the big champ!" she says as she reaches down to help him with his belt. "Play with what?" she asks, innocently. "Have you got a big bone for me?" she reaches into his trousers to gently feel around, giving a gently stroke to what she finds. "How about you get comfortable. You can have a couple extra minutes of your reward, free of charge, to help you relax. Just because I find you so cute." she adds with a wink before leaning up for a kiss.

She presses her body against his and sighs sweetly, meeting his gaze as the kiss breaks. "Do you want to take any of my clothes off while we kiss? I'm all yours at the moment." She pulls a hand up and starts loosening her cuirass more, letting it drop to the ground, leaving only her loose fitting top that seemed to beg to be opened, the fabric hanging so enticingly from her generous bust.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Penelope Delights (Mark3000)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

You do your best to simultaneously get in a good workout while also keeping a low enough profile to alert the inhabitants of the barracks, putting your sword arm to good use against the invisible foe in your mind's eye. You were around a hundred swings in, one hundred and six to be exact, before something distracts you. Two somethings, to be exact. Approaching from the same direction you had only minutes earlier, two young men come stumbling by. They seem to be dressed in armor, simple chain shirts jingling beneath their matching surcoats and boiled leather to cover what the rings could not. It's easy enough to imagine they're part of the city's humble watch. They spot you easily enough, in the middle of the courtyard as you are, and one of them hollers in your direction.

"Oi, what business have you here?" He almost slurs, giving you the impression he's at least a little drunk, if their overall stumbling didn't key you off to that, "Some kind of... Gods, what are you exactly? I didn't know tits could get that big, let alone fit into a chest piece. Really stretching the term breastplate, aren't you?"

It's the same kind of abuse that's been hurled your way since you picked up a blade and decided to follow in your father's footsteps. Only, not from company men, this time.

"Why don't you put down the sword of yours and come with us, eh? Maybe we'll show you a thing or two 'bout wieldin' a blade."

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Though you try to shield yourself from his sight, your demure display must encourage his intentions all the more. The farmer slides his chair back and gets to his feet, his self-restraint ensuring he was quite a bit more sober than yourself. He carefully makes his way over to you, reaching out with a hand to give your arm an experimental stroke.

"Not often I share the house with good companionship, y'know? Especially not from a good woman like yourself," Though he certainly conducts himself with all the confidence of your previous lover, he's gentle enough with you, running his fingers through the soft fur on your bicep as he trails it up towards your neck. "Figured I'd give you a threat, for keepin' a humble fella like myself company. Think you might like that? Gettin' somethin' special for bein' such a good girl?"

The praise keeps flowing, and to make matters worse, his fingers, having carefully traced a line along your neck, quickly duck behind your head and further up, his digits beginning to scratch behind one of your sensitive ears. It seems, for all your unfamiliarity with human men, he's familiar enough with Lupo to know what makes them tick. Or at least what makes you tick, in your inebriated, and not unaroused state.

Eliza Asara (Lorielle)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"Are you serious? That's gotta be some seriously bad mojo! You've even acknowledged that it's cursed- Hey! Hey, wait up!" The goblin woman is quick to scurry along after you as you begin to make your way off the beaten path and towards the barrow. Like any burial chamber, you're positive the entrance is supposed to be buried deep, to keep trespassers at bay. However, fortuitously enough (but not for the inhabitants), you find a patch of recently unearth dirt on the side of the mound opposite the road. It's quite a large hole, burrowed down a steep incline into the earth. There's something to be said about the kind of work required to dig a hole into an ancient resting place, but whoever was responsible, their actions benefit you well enough. The goblin woman, adept with the night as she is, points out that there seems to be an entrance way within the tunnel.

As you ease your way down into the earth and through the entrance, the inside of the mound opens up into a larger chamber, just based on the acoustics of your armor alone. You hear the familiar rattling of your companion's chest followed by a loud thump, and then further shuffling about. The reason is revealed not too long after, as the little green blabbermouth strikes a flint and steel together to ignite the wick of a lantern she must have been storing away. As it burns, light fills the long abandoned halls of this tomb, showing the carefully piled stones that form the walls and ceiling above you, carved with archaic runes in a tongue you scarcely recognize. There are also hollows in the walls, sealed with what looks to be clay, where the deceased presumably were interred.

"This is uh, pretty spooky. Are you sure about this? It feels really frickin' cold in here too."

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"Rumors? There's plenty. Most of them are total horseshit. Listen, if you're going out into the woods looking to pick through elvish ruins, you're not gonna have a very good time. Not even the elf clans that remain around here go there. They say it's out of principle, but, well, I'm pretty darn sure there was a reason they picked up and left in the first place, and whatever it was, it's probably still there," It's a might bit sinister, but that much was to be expected. Ruins came in two kinds; those that were hard to loot, and those that were already picked clean. With luck, you would find the former.

"Still, if you've got your heart set on exploring, be careful getting there. That forest is full of fey. Think it's a uh... what do you call 'em? Worldfall? What happens when their world bleeds over into ours. You've got to be real careful not to run into any of 'em while you're in there, and if you do, not to offend them. Best case scenario, you end up with a sore ass full of satyr spunk and they send you on your way. Worst case scenario... well, you wouldn't be the first to never come back."

Crosses the River (Mashugana)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"Yes, it would be very rude, and you wouldn't be rude to me, would you? You're a very well behaved boy." Alissa all but whispers against your ear, all while her fingers execute their work with practiced ease. You feel your belt loosen, and with a subtle finesse, she pulls your garments down just enough for your cock to spring out of its confines and smack right into her palm. She gasps softly, either out of shock or for your benefit, and wastes little time in wrapping her soft, warm fingers around your girth. The half-elf seems content to let you touch her as you please, pressing her breasts into your chest in an effort to keep nice and close, her lips nestled against your jaw and her hot breath against your ear. Despite your very public locale, she seems entirely unfazed by implications of your naughty little tango, immediately getting to work by pumping you off under the table.

"Mmh~ Someone got nice and hard quick," She teases, her soft moans and honey-sweet words tickling your lobe, "Been a while since you've had a woman? It must have been hard. Going for who knows how long without having a nice, tight hole to bury this big, thick cock into. Bet those poor balls of yours are packed full, just waiting to be emptied."

If her dirty talking didn't get you flustered, her technique is sure to. You're treated to the sensation of her silky smooth palm gliding up and down your length, just fast enough to get your balls churning without causing too much friction. She keeps the pressure nice and tight, ringing her soft fingers around your head and twisting her hand as she pumps down to the base.

"Well, don't you worry. That's all gonna change tonight. I'm gonna milk every fat rope you've got built up right on out of you. So you just lean back get ready to give me everything. You'll do that for me, right? Give me that big, thick, sticky load? 'Cause there is nothing I want more right now than to see your face as you try to hide how hard you're gonna cum."

Lula Bucker (LazyKitsune)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"I uhm, don't do this often, I guess." Sverre admits sheepishly, although he doesn't exactly have too much time to ruminate on the matter when you assault so many of his senses at once. His belt comes apart easily enough, and it's not hard to slide your hand down into his pants with it out of the way. It's quite the experience to boot, rustling around between his legs. The fur around his sex is nice and soft, almost downy against your fingers, and your digits brush against what must be a sheath of some kind. Luckily, the prospect of enjoying your body has already begun to coax its contents out into the open, and you soon find yourself stroking the first few inches of his cock. It's an important distinction to make, those first couple inches, because as you gently work the head, more and more of it seems to come out, inch after inch of thick, pink cockflesh filling your palm and then some. You can hardly get your hand around it as it stiffens and begins to poke up out of his trousers, and your diligent ministrations earn a handful of adorable little groans from the apparently very hung gambler.

It's a warm, soft kiss for the most part, a little difficult to account for at first thanks to his muzzle, but ultimately quite enjoyable, the shy lupo placing a strong hand against the small of your back as you get in close. In particularly, the long, deft tongue that briefly caresses yours gives you some interesting ideas as to just where these wolfmen can 'kiss' you later, if all goes well. As you withdraw, his eyes meet yours quickly, before nervously dipping down to your bust. He nods, his hand moving up to grip at your top, and without ceremony, yank it open and expose your chest to the cold evening air. Sweet boy that he is, he's quick to rectify that, and soon those big, paw-like hands of his are cupping your breasts, letting you enjoy the fuzzy warmth they provide.

"Wow, I... really like these," He says as his thumbs find their way to your nipples, circling the little golden rings that hang from them. "Did they hurt?"