The Northmarches (IC)

[kermitphrogg114]

Raagen thinks it over. On the one hand, this is the first solid lead in weeks, maybe she can finally track down Duravor at last. On the other, the lead is still a month's old, hardly a fresh one. And besides, she had hoped to do some more exploring of the ruins here, and the Wild Fangs were in town, but for how long? Would they be leaving for the ruins soon? If so, she had to catch up to them.

She gives a sigh of frustration as she begins massaging her temples. She had been given a job to do as she made her way north, but the harder it got to find Duravor, the more obsessed she got with the issue. Maybe it's just about time to take a break and check the ruins for a change? They're closer, and if she got lucky, she can talk the Wild Fangs into letting her tag along.

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Apologies for the lack of posts. I had to cover PTO for one or two people and deal with a particularly...interesting customer. Might discuss it later on the discord.

Having given his thanks to Alissa for taking the plateware and made his way to the counter, Crosses found himself partially surprised by the height Calina had over him. He may not have been the tallest among the men of his tribe, and knew that Minos tended to be larger than humans by a long shot, but she could probably give most of the taller men among his people a run for their money in height. That she was huge in other respects caught his attention as well, but he wasn't bothered about that, his previous encounter with Alissa having seen to that particular issue for the moment as he looked her in the eyes and felt only the smallest bit of embarrassment tinge his ears, keeping his features in his "business scowl".

"Yes, apologies for any disturbances." He answered, fishing for the required payment and drawing it out for her. "Does the door come with a lock, and are there any particular rules to living here or pests I should be aware of?" He asked, equally curious as to whether Calina was related to any tribes his had traded with, this causing him to glance at what he could see of her in case she had any giveaways he was familiar with from his parents and grandparents' dealings.

[Mark3000]

"Ahh!" Penelope cried as the two guards fondled her breasts. She doesn't protest at their touch. Instead she bites her lower lip trying to suppress her voice. But every time their callous palms rub against her erect nipples, a shiver runs down her spine. Penelope's body had always been easily aroused when touched. It only took someone messaging her shoulders to turn her into absolute putty. She hated that part of herself. Even getting slapped on ass by her companions was enough to send a jolt of excitement through her. That's why she was always so strict with herself, to keep others from taking advantage of this weakness.

But kneeling in front of these two guards, Penelope could feel herself getting flushed. It might have been the long journey, the alcohol or the bout of sparing. The young mercenary could feel her guard dropping. Once the first guard was nice and hard, she began to kiss the tip of his hug. Her scowl had softened into a lustful gaze. As she used her mouth to please the first guard, her free hand drifted to the second guard and his exposed member. Gently she began to stroke. At the same time, Penelope took more and more of the first guard's cock into her mouth.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

You ponder your options for a time outside the mayor's estate, weighing the risks and benefits of tracking your quarry against venturing into the feywoods. Although it doesn't take you very long to decided upon your next course of action, it's just long enough to distract you from your immediate surroundings. You suddenly feel an impact from behind that jostles you out of your thoughts, and after a few stumbled footsteps to maintain your stance, a quick inspection as to the source of the disturbance reveals a slim figure sprawled backwards on their haunches; quite literally in their case, as your aggressor seems to sport a pair of deer-like legs. You can't get much more than a glimpse of their features before they're back on their cloven, wrapped in a heavy woolen cloak as they are, but beneath the shadow of their hood you can see a pair of pouty lips quiver in what must either be outrage or embarrassment.

"Watch where you're going, would you?! Every day there's more of you foreigners clogging up the streets, I swear..."

Crosses the River (Mashugana)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"All the doors lock just fine, but we've got a master key for them in case someone gets up to some funny business, I should warn you. Leave by noon and try not to stain the sheets are the only rules, and the only pests around here are the out-of-towners." Calina responds nonchalantly as she takes your silver and wanders off to retrieve your key from behind the counter. It gives you a brief time to look over her features; for the most part, she doesn't look much like the Minos you know. She's tall, sure, but doesn't seem nearly as athletic as someone who lives in the wilds, her curvaceous body skewing towards the plumper end of things that only further accentuates the the incredibly generous curves her heritage bestowed upon her. To say nothing of her soft looking skin and silky looking hair, she seems a city girl, tried and true.

"Second floor, third room on the right," She eventually says as she hands you a key with a little three scratched into its well-worn surface, "And, as much as I appreciate the window shopping, I'm not for sale."

She gives you a little wink after that, having apparently caught wind of your curiosity in the interim.

Penelope Delights (Mark3000)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The first guard gives a low, throaty moan as you press your soft lips against the head of his member. It only deepens when you part them and slide the first several inches of his cock into your mouth, your tongue relishing in the slightly salty, masculine flavor of his shaft. Having apparently realized the sensitivity of your breasts, or perhaps simply desiring to play with them further, his right hand continues to maul your heavy tit, gripping and fondling it roughly while his left hand comes to rest atop your head, combing through your hair and encouraging you to take more of his maleness into your waiting throat.

His companion isn't one to be left out either, and as you begin to gently stroke him to a proud and full erection, he focuses his efforts on the perky nipple adorning the breast he's chosen as his own, locking his rough fingers around it and giving it a few gentle rolls between his digits before tweaking it just a bit more roughly. Perhaps at a loss for what to do with his other hand, he places it down against the nape of your neck, stroking back and forth between your shoulder blades as you work him off in your palm, only further exploiting your sensitivity to touch.

[kermitphrogg114]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)
You ponder your options for a time outside the mayor's estate, weighing the risks and benefits of tracking your quarry against venturing into the feywoods. Although it doesn't take you very long to decided upon your next course of action, it's just long enough to distract you from your immediate surroundings. You suddenly feel an impact from behind that jostles you out of your thoughts, and after a few stumbled footsteps to maintain your stance, a quick inspection as to the source of the disturbance reveals a slim figure sprawled backwards on their haunches; quite literally in their case, as your aggressor seems to sport a pair of deer-like legs. You can't get much more than a glimpse of their features before they're back on their cloven, wrapped in a heavy woolen cloak as they are, but beneath the shadow of their hood you can see a pair of pouty lips quiver in what must either be outrage or embarrassment.

"Watch where you're going, would you?! Every day there's more of you foreigners clogging up the streets, I swear..."

The collision breaks Raagen's line of thought, and while she manages to recover her balance quickly, she's annoyed by the fact. She turns around to face her aggressor, but finds them on their haunches.

"Yes, clearly," she snaps back, "because I need to watch where I'm going when there are idiots running into me from behind! If I need to watch where I'm going, you need to lay off the sauce 'cause you're clearly blind drunk!"

Once she has that off her chest, she gives a sigh.

" Alright, look, it appears we got off on a bad start," she adds, stretching a hand to the fallen person. " You seem to be having a bad day, so how about we take this from the top?"

[Firehead]

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Left to his mercy with your legs high up in the air, it's all you can do to dig your nails into the floor and try to hold on for dear life. The farmer, captivated by the sight of your luscious body bouncing up and down before him, drives himself into you with ever growing ardor. His cock pistons into you with quick, rhythmic speed, fucking your needy depths hard and fast and deep. Every time he bottoms out in you, you can feel his cockhead battering at your womb, his weighty balls pendulum forward to clap against the softness of your ass.

"Yeah? You like gettin' bred, do ya? Like a good bitch? Gonna be a good bitch and give me some pups?" He asks, his voice husky both from the obvious desire he has for you and the effort he's putting into rutting you into the floor. His dirty talking only speaks to something primal in you, a desire scratching at your cider addled mind, the need to submit entirely to the superior male and let him fill you with his progeny. His scent was so strong, and his balls so heavy... maybe he would give you pups. Help your tits get all the bigger, so all the lustful human men who desire you so could fondle and suck and fuck them.

Either way, it's all hard to focus on; everything is, especially once he shifts his weight further atop you, forcing your ass up off the floor as he strikes you at a different, tighter angle. One which makes it all but impossible for his long, thick cock to not grind into that wonderful spot he found earlier with every impassioned thrust.

Elvara groans out unable to do anything as he continued to assail her womb. His intent to impregnate him with healthy pups was clear even before he began speaking. She was too drunk and driven by instinctual needs to even consider the implications of bearing the offspring of a human father. All she wanted was to feel her womb packed and filled to the brim with his seed and know she'd drained the balls of a big, strong, and most of all productive stud. To bask in the sweet embrace of afterglow and know the sweetness of motherhood would be soon to follow.

"Yes, breed me to your heart's content. I'll have your pups, I'll raise them with care, I'll do anything you want. A strong healthy son, a beautiful fertile daughter, whatever you want. Just please give me your cum; I need IT!!" As he lifted her ass up to take her at a different angle. She tensed her claws digging even deeper grooves into the floor beneath her while her knees bent trying to hold herself up for him with her calves as her pussy tightened. With one last howl of pleasure, Elvara's orgasm finally crashed over her milking that fat human cock for all it was worth. All she wanted was to feel his seed splatter against the back of her womb and fill her to the brink. In that moment with her inhibitions all but surrendered to the alcoholic haze, she would do or say anything to get him to satisfy her rampaging breeding instinct.

[Mashugana]

Whilst nodding and listening to Calina's explanation, Crosses inwardly shrugged at noticing she wasn't from any familiar settings, but had to admit that much like Alissa, she was easy on the eyes, being very... bountiful. Apparently he was pretty obvious though, and when she handed him the key and told him that, he gave a small huff and a shake of his head. "Ah, sorry. It wasn't like..." he started, before catching the wink and opting to quit while he was ahead. The women of this city were so far very different indeed from the more stoic ones he was used to at home.

"Ah, nevermind. Many thanks." He said with a small approximation of a smile, before making his way up to his room. He'd test the lock first by shaking it around some to make sure it couldn't just be yanked off easily, and then drop off his nonessential supplies for now, such as his tack, water skin and flint and tinder. Once that was set and he was down to his clothes, axe, knife, purse and charm, he'd consider the time and then likely lock his door and walk out to see the town a little before it got too dark, trying to find what was what in the area and check on the horse he'd stabled earlier if possible. Inwardly, he hoped for no danger, but there were a lot of stories told about cities being more treacherous than wastelands in some ways, so he wanted to be sure his ill tempered, highly ignoble steed was okay... or the stable person, depending on how cranky the mare was. He'd also left his spear there and some of his heavier supplies there, stashed with other riders' saddlebags.

[Mark3000]

The more relaxed Penelope became, the more she allowed her arousal to build. The moment she felt the second guard's hand drift down her back, she could feel her pussy moisten. Her head relaxes into the first guard's palm, letting her mouth sink further onto his cock. Meanwhile, even with one hand Penelope she masterfully stroke his cock. She rubbed her palm against the underside of his shaft. Her fingers and thumb form a ring messaging the head.

'It's alright. I'm only doing this for one night. I'll never see these two again' Penelope told herself as she debased herself before the two guards. Drool dripped from her mouth as she bobbed her head on the first guard's cock. She could feel the pre-cum bead out from the other's cock as she tugged him off. All the while it felt like her breasts were on fire from all the attention.

'If this keeps going I'm going to ...' she thought as she felt a tingle in her cunt.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"Drunk?! It's not even mid-morning! Unlike you soft southerners, we don't swill wine from dawn to dusk around here! We also don't stand dumbly outside the most important building in the town, waiting for someone with something to actually do to run into them!" They huff in response to your snapping, clearly offended by the accusation almost as much as they are by your foreign nature. It's somewhat difficult to ascertain whether or not your attempt to smooth things over does much to soothe their temper, but it at least manages to derail the previous finger pointing.

"I am not having a bad day. The day hasn't even started yet," They huff once more, "What are you even doing out here? Normally the travelers stick to the inns and market and don't bother with anywhere else."

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Your whorish cries and lustful admissions of desires only drive the farmer into further heights of passion, his balls clapping hard against the now soaked fur of your ass as he continues to rut into your tensing folds. It's so absurdly deep inside you, the combination of position and his size allowing him to absolutely pack your deepest, most sensitive parts. As you find your release and howl out your pleasure, he lets out a deep, guttural growl of his own, your involuntary clenching milking the stud between your legs hard and fast. His thrusting begins to lose its purposeful, rhythmic nature, and he soon devolves into mindless rutting, a sure sign he's finally going to give you what you've desperately wanted since he fished that big, mind-melting shaft out of his breeches.

"Good girl... Oh, fuck, you're such a good girl. A good little breeding bitch... Here it comes! Fuck! Take it!"

With a series of loud grunts, your impromptu lover suddenly slams it home a few final, hard times as his member throbs inside of you, battering against your back wall with every hurried thrust. Holding your legs firm against his chest, you're given the perfect view as his face contorts in blissful agony and his hard, taut stomach tightens up in preparation for his release. The first blast of cum fires off with such force that you swear you can see your stomach jump with the motion, and subsequent ropes fire in quick succession, filling your womb with thick, virile see. Midway through his release he drops your legs, pushing them aside so he can press his sweat covered body against yours, pinning you into the floor with his weight as he rocks himself against you, wads of cum continuing to pack your cunt until his balls finally relax and his throbbing comes to an end.

Crosses the River (Mashugana)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The trip through town is largely uneventful, as night falls and people begin to shuffle their way through the streets to their homes. Without as thick a crowd as when you had earlier arrived, you're more easily able to navigate towards the stables where you left your horse. A quick check in reveals your mare to be entirely safe, locked in her own hay-covered stall among a few of the other townsfolk's steeds. As you part ways with the stable keeper, you find yourself wandering the streets for a little while longer, taking care to remember your way back to the inn lest you find yourself sleeping in a ditch despite paying for a room. As you round another street corner in what must be a residential section of the town, you hear someone cry out a little further down the road.

"Unhand me this instant! I demand it! You will not t- Mmhph!"

Penelope Delights (Mark3000)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Both the men you find yourself servicing let out unabashed groans and rumbles as you work to please them, but to your shame, it's a bit hard to tell which side of the exchange is enjoying themselves more. After so long without release, your body is quick to respond to their ministrations, something they quickly catch on to. This is made readily apparent when the first guard pulls away from your tit, only to bring his hand back against it with a quick, sharp slap that sends it to jiggling. He gropes and kneads it a few more times afterwards, sinking his fingers into the bountiful flesh before cracking it again, his hand print undoubtedly standing out against your soft, mocha skin.

"Someone's sensitive, eh? Usually only the lil' perky ones are like that, but yer just full of surprise, ain'tcha?" Asks the guard whose cock you find yourself slobbering on, his hand forcing more and more of it into your mouth until he's pushing into your throat at the apex of every bob, "Why don't ya get up here and let us suck 'em, eh? Give you a lil' attention down below while we're at it."

It's certainly a proposal... Catching onto his friend's actions, the second guard only intensifies his own fondling, giving your nipple a hard tweaking while his other hand strokes circles between your shoulder blades. At this rate, you'd probably cum just sucking them off, and soak your undergarments in the process. At least it would be a little more understandable to cum with a man properly inside you, even if you hadn't agreed to that initially...

[Firehead]

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Your whorish cries and lustful admissions of desires only drive the farmer into further heights of passion, his balls clapping hard against the now soaked fur of your ass as he continues to rut into your tensing folds. It's so absurdly deep inside you, the combination of position and his size allowing him to absolutely pack your deepest, most sensitive parts. As you find your release and howl out your pleasure, he lets out a deep, guttural growl of his own, your involuntary clenching milking the stud between your legs hard and fast. His thrusting begins to lose its purposeful, rhythmic nature, and he soon devolves into mindless rutting, a sure sign he's finally going to give you what you've desperately wanted since he fished that big, mind-melting shaft out of his breeches.

"Good girl... Oh, fuck, you're such a good girl. A good little breeding bitch... Here it comes! Fuck! Take it!"

With a series of loud grunts, your impromptu lover suddenly slams it home a few final, hard times as his member throbs inside of you, battering against your back wall with every hurried thrust. Holding your legs firm against his chest, you're given the perfect view as his face contorts in blissful agony and his hard, taut stomach tightens up in preparation for his release. The first blast of cum fires off with such force that you swear you can see your stomach jump with the motion, and subsequent ropes fire in quick succession, filling your womb with thick, virile see. Midway through his release he drops your legs, pushing them aside so he can press his sweat covered body against yours, pinning you into the floor with his weight as he rocks himself against you, wads of cum continuing to pack your cunt until his balls finally relax and his throbbing comes to an end.

Elvara panted and devolved into whimpers and unintelligible muttering as the man above her threw away any self-control to batter her snatch with wild, powerful thrusts. It was clear that her desire to milk him of everything he had was having an effect on him, and she was hopeful she would soon have a womb full of the virile spunk she so desperately desired. Hearing him cry out to 'take it' she knew she would soon be rewarded for her efforts in working her lover up to a breeding frenzy. A reward that caused her to lick her lips in anticipation.

Her toes and fingers curled as she felt the first blast of human seed poured directly into her hot, hungry womb. Her back arched, and she whimpered in relief as she felt her womb filled with thick, rich puppy pudding. Her cervix clamped shut around his cockhead as if trying to keep him from pulling out or his seed from leaking until her breeding instinct had been fully satisfied. Her tongue lolled out panting between whimpers as he poured more and more of his essence into her until she could swear she could see her stomach bulge from how much cum was inside of her.

Feeling his load slowly begin to petter out, she felt him practically collapse over top of her letting her know just how much of his energy he had used up working his load into her. Groaning in satisfaction, she wrapped her arms around his stomach as she relaxed underneath him. Enjoying both the afterglow of being fucked and his weight overtop of her, she felt herself begin to lose consciousness even as she struggled to keep consciousness. "Mmmm, noooo. N-not ready to sl-sleep yet."

[kermitphrogg114]

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"Drunk?! It's not even mid-morning! Unlike you soft southerners, we don't swill wine from dawn to dusk around here! We also don't stand dumbly outside the most important building in the town, waiting for someone with something to actually do to run into them!" They huff in response to your snapping, clearly offended by the accusation almost as much as they are by your foreign nature. It's somewhat difficult to ascertain whether or not your attempt to smooth things over does much to soothe their temper, but it at least manages to derail the previous finger pointing.

"I am not having a bad day. The day hasn't even started yet," They huff once more, "What are you even doing out here? Normally the travelers stick to the inns and market and don't bother with anywhere else."

Raagen looks at the 'local' in annoyance. They're clearly a fey-blood, most likely a faun given the deer legs, her memory finally serving her. And technically, she may have been walking a bit slower than she should be, but she isn't inclined to admit errors, especially to a particularly xenophobic and impatient local.

She decides to play it cool.

"One, figure of speech," she replies. "Two, I had business here, which is why I was at the mayor's office. Unless there are laws against foreigners being here? Also, are you always this bright and cheerful? Taking one stereotype and applying it to everyone south of here isn't even that accurate.

"'In any case, I guess I better get going, and I imagine you have places to be. I'd ask why you were in a rush while covering yourself in a cloak and practically obscuring your own vision, but then I imagine you'd tell me to mind my business."

As she prepares to walk away, Raagen remembers something and discretely places a hand in her pocket to make sure she hadn't been pickpocketed. Her parents warned about crafty thieves using the old "bump and grab" method.

[Mark3000]

Penelope whimpered over the guard's cock as he slapped her tit. Her eyes rolled back for a moment as her whole body shivered. But that didn't stop her from sucking off the man's cock. She looked down to see the firm hand print on her breast. It stung like hell, but the stinging pain only caused her to become more aroused. It was then that he made his proposal. Normally she would reject him out right, but the buxom mercenary was too far gone. Her pussy was quivering for attention, and she couldn't return to the inn in her current state.

Releasing the first guard's cock, Penelope stood up and undid her armored leggings. As she pulled down her panties, she revealed her glistening lower lips. "J-Just this once, then we're done" she said breathing heavily, causing her chest to heave up and down.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

As you relax beneath your lover and hold his body close, you inevitably feel yourself drifting off, a mixture of fatigue, intoxication and satisfaction lulling you into unconsciousness. You're vaguely aware of the farmer disentangling himself from you, and you feel a pair of strong arms hefting you up off the floor and depositing you somewhere softer not long after, but darkness eventually wins out, and you end up falling asleep shortly thereafter. There are occasional moments of wakefulness, the squeaking of the bed frame and the sensation of strong hands exploring your body, but whichever ways the man you've submitted takes you throughout the night remain a pleasant blur until he's finally sated himself and settles down alongside you.

____

Morning is the next thing you can perceive with any meaningful clarity; with it comes a throbbing in your head, the result of the cider, and a much more pleasant throbbing in your loins, the result of a night of passionate mating. You're in the farmer's bed, the covers pulled up just over your shoulders, with the man himself nowhere to be found. Sunlight streams in through a shuttered window, giving you enough light to inspect yourself once you've summoned the will to peel yourself out of the blankets. Stark naked as you are, you can see just where your stud marked you the night before, dried splatters of his seed all across your chest and, with a cursory touch to your muzzle, across your face. The mess between your thighs is much more severe, however, a mixture of his cum and your own caking your inner thighs, the seed he painstakingly deposited into your deepest parts still sticky and viscous as it leaks with your motions.

You'll probably need a bath before heading off, and perhaps asking for one would be a good way to break the awkwardness you might feel facing the man with a sober head; you don't even know the man's name and yet you can vividly recall through the fogginess that you had begged him to fill you with pups, after all.

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The faun simply scoffs at you as you berate them.

"Why ever would I tell you to mind your business? Who wouldn't want to share their left story with such a beam of sunlight?" They ask you rhetorically, "Go flutter off to be someone else's problem, you glorified duck."

The cloaked figures brushes themselves off and makes their way down the street opposite the direction you intended to go, leaving you to poke through your belongings to see whether or not they had been so brazen as to steal from you in broad daylight. Everything seems well enough in order, at least for your money pouch, and so you head off to settle the other business of your day.

The walk out of town isn't exactly something to enjoy when you had only recently arrived; your body yearns for the softness of the inn as opposed to the morning chill of the open wilds, but nothing ever gets done huddled beneath the covers. You walk for what seems like an hour, following the beaten dirt road that winds from Esterwyn's northern most gate towards the looming mountains ahead. You can't imagine many people go further north than the town itself, even ignoring the mountainous barrier than presumably halted Andova's expeditions into the Marches. Perhaps the mining the mayor mentioned occurs in the foothills you find yourself traversing.

True to Calina's word, as you travel the increasingly rugged trail, you manage to spot a man-made construct off in the distance. Sat atop one of the rolling hills is a large, spire-like tower. It must be at least eight or nine stories tall, and constructed of a jet-black stone that seems distinctly out of place in the surrounding countryside. It even has its own little cobbled footpath branching off the main road, leading you from the rough and bumpy dirt track up the hill and towards the duo of large, oaken doors that make up the tower's entrance.

As you walk up the short staircase the leads to the door, the door suddenly swings open inwards, as if someone had been expecting you. True, the tower certainly did command a view of quite some distance, so maybe they spotted you on the approach, or perhaps you missed some kind of alarm system along the way. Considering the imposing aura it commands, you scarcely expect what you see on the other side of the door; a young half-elf of dubious sex seems ecstatic to see you, their eyes wide with wonder.

"Mistress, you've retur- Oh. You aren't her. You aren't her at all."

His (based on the pitch of their voice) excitement deflates almost immediately. He clears his throat shortly thereafter, taking a moment to compose himself. Then, he speaks again.

"Greetings, traveler. Welcome to the domain Elanora von Haustein, Archmage-at-Large. I am her apprentice, Branwick, serving as steward to this tower in her absence. How may I be of assistance?"

You get the feeling this one doesn't talk to outsiders very often, but he's trying very hard to seem official. Plus, his name is Branwick, which surely shortens to Bran, the man you're looking for.

Penelope Delights (Mark3000)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The men are predictably delighted when you heft yourself up off the ground and shimmy out of your lower garments. The man whose cock you just had in your mouth grips himself by the base, clearly ready to take you for all you're worth, but his friend thumps him on the side.

"You've had something wet already; take the back," He grumbles, and although the two look nearly ready to argue, the urge to sheath themselves inside you is clearly stronger. As they switch places, the guard you had carefully stroked to hardness wastes no time closing the gap between you. He reaches down, putting a strong hand on one of your thick thighs so he can pull it up around his hips. As he hikes your leg up to further expose your sex, he suddenly presses his mouth against your own, forcing his tongue against yours as he messily kisses you, letting you taste the liquor still heavy on his breath. You're quickly boxed in by his companion, who presses himself against your back to keep your steady, his hands running up your front to cup your tits and give them a good squeeze, his slick cock pressing between your ass cheeks.

It takes a few attempts, even with your leg lifted up, to get his cock lined up properly with you. Once it is, he wastes no time driving it home, his thick cockhead spreading your needy folds wide. He groans into the kiss, burying himself as deep as your pussy can take him, only breaking away once he's fully sheathed himself inside you. Saliva still connecting your mouths, he quickly dips down, pressing his face into your cleavage, his tongue lavishing your fat mounds sloppily as he works his way towards on of your nipples, aided by the other guard hefting them up in his own rough, fondling grip.

The sensation of him sucking one of them into his mouth to savor it is only made all the more shudder worthy by the simultaneously feeling of his buddy pressing his cock-head against your undefended backdoor. With your leg trapped in the air by the other's grip and your spit keeping him nice and slick, it doesn't take much effort for him to press past the initial resistance, and you soon find yourself filled in both holes, the men beginning to rock against you from both sides as they take you like a common whore.

[Mashugana]

Crosses had been relieved to find neither his horse nor belongings harmed, and perhaps even more so that his horse, a cranky, wrathful old mare in general, hadn't harmed anyone else. Once he'd said his thanks and good nights to the stablemaster, he set off for the inn again, taking a somewhat more scenic route to see what all was going on now that the streets were thinning out and night had begun to fall. The city felt much more comfortable for him like this, and rather than the almost panic inducing frenzy he'd found when he first came in, it was a more steady thrum of sorts. Still busy, but not frantic he guessed as he started passing through a residential area that looked almost like it was settling down for bed itself, much as it's occupants likely were. Maybe his people could settle in a place like this, one day. Unfortunately, his comfortable thoughts didn't last long.

Hearing the shout, followed by what he guessed was someone being muffled or choked off, Crosses tensed and immediately fell into silence, undoing the binding for his axe. He didn't necessarily want a fight, but his grandfather wouldn't really forgive him if he didn't at least investigate what was happening ahead of him, and he didn't want to risk a haunting.

Keeping light steps, he made his way as quickly and quietly towards what he guessed the source of the scuffle was as he could. He kept towards the shadows of buildings as he did so to try to conceal himself, along with avoiding stepping on anything that might make too much noise, like crunchier bits of snow or gravel. If he spotted the incident, he'd pause and try to take a look at what was happening before deciding whether to step in or not.

[kermitphrogg114]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)
The faun simply scoffs at you as you berate them.

"Why ever would I tell you to mind your business? Who wouldn't want to share their left story with such a beam of sunlight?" They ask you rhetorically, "Go flutter off to be someone else's problem, you glorified duck."

The cloaked figures brushes themselves off and makes their way down the street opposite the direction you intended to go, leaving you to poke through your belongings to see whether or not they had been so brazen as to steal from you in broad daylight. Everything seems well enough in order, at least for your money pouch, and so you head off to settle the other business of your day.

The walk out of town isn't exactly something to enjoy when you had only recently arrived; your body yearns for the softness of the inn as opposed to the morning chill of the open wilds, but nothing ever gets done huddled beneath the covers. You walk for what seems like an hour, following the beaten dirt road that winds from Esterwyn's northern most gate towards the looming mountains ahead. You can't imagine many people go further north than the town itself, even ignoring the mountainous barrier than presumably halted Andova's expeditions into the Marches. Perhaps the mining the mayor mentioned occurs in the foothills you find yourself traversing.

True to Calina's word, as you travel the increasingly rugged trail, you manage to spot a man-made construct off in the distance. Sat atop one of the rolling hills is a large, spire-like tower. It must be at least eight or nine stories tall, and constructed of a jet-black stone that seems distinctly out of place in the surrounding countryside. It even has its own little cobbled footpath branching off the main road, leading you from the rough and bumpy dirt track up the hill and towards the duo of large, oaken doors that make up the tower's entrance.

As you walk up the short staircase the leads to the door, the door suddenly swings open inwards, as if someone had been expecting you. True, the tower certainly did command a view of quite some distance, so maybe they spotted you on the approach, or perhaps you missed some kind of alarm system along the way. Considering the imposing aura it commands, you scarcely expect what you see on the other side of the door; a young half-elf of dubious sex seems ecstatic to see you, their eyes wide with wonder.

"Mistress, you've retur- Oh. You aren't her. You aren't her at all."

His (based on the pitch of their voice) excitement deflates almost immediately. He clears his throat shortly thereafter, taking a moment to compose himself. Then, he speaks again.

"Greetings, traveler. Welcome to the domain Elanora von Haustein, Archmage-at-Large. I am her apprentice, Branwick, serving as steward to this tower in her absence. How may I be of assistance?"

You get the feeling this one doesn't talk to outsiders very often, but he's trying very hard to seem official. Plus, his name is Branwick, which surely shortens to Bran, the man you're looking for.

"Yep, that's me alright," Raagen mutters to herself. "A regular ray of sunshine with dark wings and hair."

She finds it hard to argue with the faun's barb; she's never been the friendliest sort, she generally sticks to sarcasm and witty banter. She knows how her sisters would have handled it. Fionna would have told the local to watch where they're going before calming down and offering a helping hand and generally being nice and polite. Cugu would have been profusely apologizing from the first moment. And Filita...

Well, alright, maybe Filita would be a bad example, really.

To be fair, Raagen liked her solitude, working with books and knowledge rather than people. However, growing up, she found out that she'd have to learn to work with and around people, so rather she knowshow to handle them properly than have to struggle with stubborn and hostile strangers. And yet, her defensive sarcasm and loose tongue was never truly tamed, resulting in moments like these.

She sighs; what's done is done. She only prays it doesn't bite her in the ass later. For now, she heads north to Bran's location, a tower just located an hour north of town.

She's not entirely sure why she didn't just fly there. Sure, the winds were being stiff and stubborn, but it would have saved time to get there from the sky. Still, she supposes it didn't matter, as long as she got there quickly enough.

She finds the tower quickly enough, though, and prepares herself. She knocks on the door, and awaits the response. What she finds, however, is a surprise; rather than someone who could pass as a scholar, she finds a rather... slender (yes, let's put it that way) young half-elf.

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" she asks. "I was asking about some ancient ruins in the forest just east of Eastwynn, and I was told that you were someone I could ask about them. It... well, it hopefully won't take long..."

Still, she can't deny he looks kind of cute.

[Firehead]

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

As you relax beneath your lover and hold his body close, you inevitably feel yourself drifting off, a mixture of fatigue, intoxication and satisfaction lulling you into unconsciousness. You're vaguely aware of the farmer disentangling himself from you, and you feel a pair of strong arms hefting you up off the floor and depositing you somewhere softer not long after, but darkness eventually wins out, and you end up falling asleep shortly thereafter. There are occasional moments of wakefulness, the squeaking of the bed frame and the sensation of strong hands exploring your body, but whichever ways the man you've submitted takes you throughout the night remain a pleasant blur until he's finally sated himself and settles down alongside you.

____

Morning is the next thing you can perceive with any meaningful clarity; with it comes a throbbing in your head, the result of the cider, and a much more pleasant throbbing in your loins, the result of a night of passionate mating. You're in the farmer's bed, the covers pulled up just over your shoulders, with the man himself nowhere to be found. Sunlight streams in through a shuttered window, giving you enough light to inspect yourself once you've summoned the will to peel yourself out of the blankets. Stark naked as you are, you can see just where your stud marked you the night before, dried splatters of his seed all across your chest and, with a cursory touch to your muzzle, across your face. The mess between your thighs is much more severe, however, a mixture of his cum and your own caking your inner thighs, the seed he painstakingly deposited into your deepest parts still sticky and viscous as it leaks with your motions.

You'll probably need a bath before heading off, and perhaps asking for one would be a good way to break the awkwardness you might feel facing the man with a sober head; you don't even know the man's name and yet you can vividly recall through the fogginess that you had begged him to fill you with pups, after all.

Elvara groaned weakly as she felt herself be hefted bodily into the farmer's strong arms giving her a feeling of safety and security as she drifted off to a drunken, well-fucked sleep before her lover had even gotten her to the bed. Every now and then, she would think she'd been roused to find him still using her body to sate his desires, but in her exhausted state, she couldn't tell if it was actually happening or if she was dreaming it.

Waking up in the morning, she felt a soreness throughout her body though it was a pleasant, satisfying soreness. What wasn't pleasant was the feeling of her head. How much had she had last night? Suddenly blurred recollections of last night flashed through her head. Many of them were fragments and fuzzy at best in her mind, but one thing rang clear in her memories, and it was the way she begged him for puppies. Being different species, she wasn't even sure he could impregnate her. If he could, what would the children be like? Would they be lupa like her, human like him, or some kind of mix? Her tribe's shaman knew how to prevent pregnancy with a mix of herbs, but she was a long way from home and didn't bring anything like that along with her.

What had compelled her to do such a thing in the first place? Thinking about it, the only explanation she could think of was that traveling so far and for so long had left her feeling isolated and alone. Such a lapse of judgment seemed understandable if disappointing. She had a mission to finish, and she couldn't let herself get distracted like that.

Finally, she removed the covers seeing the mess that had been made of her body completely at her own behest. Shakily, she got up to her feet noticing her host was nowhere to be seen. Granted it seemed likely after the wild night she'd had slept a little late. Seeing no sign of her clothes, she was forced to exit the room naked in search of either the farmer, her clothes, or a place to wash away the mess covering her.

[Mark3000]

Penelope lets out a small moan as she is was pulled in by one of the guards. The mercenary puts her flexibility on display as she manages to lift her leg with ease. What did come as a surprise was the sudden kiss. But she doesn't try to resist him. Instead, her own tongue plays with his own in a messy yet sensual exchange. Penelope wraps her arms around him griping onto his back, just as the guard behind her boxes her in.

There is a moment of intense anticipation as the two guards ready themselves at her two entrances. The front guard is first spreading her pussy with his thick cock. Penelope quivered as she felt herself being filled by the larger man. When the two released each other's lips, Penelope had to bite her lower lip to keep from moaning. But the moment his mouth reached her nipple, she couldn't hold back. "By the Gods! Your tongue feels so good on my breasts" she cried as she began rocking her hips against the first guard. She had almost forgotten about the man behind her, until thrust into her waiting ass. Penelope let out a guttural moan as the second cock made it's way deeper.

If Penelope wasn't so incredibly aroused at the moment, she would be ashamed of herself for acting like a common whore. But right now, she just wanted these two to continue playing with her body. She bounced between the two guards, her chest jiggling with each thrust. While not a virgin in either hole, she was still a tight fit. Her ass and pussy squeezing on their enlarged man hoods. Her moans grew more wild with every passing second.

"Ahh Ahh Ahh... Your cocks are so big. I'm gonna cum" Penelope cried as she flung her head back. Her vagina and anus cliched as her body shook with an intense orgasm. Her love juices spilled onto guard's cocks.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Crosses the River (Mashugana)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The scene is fairly easy to find, with the night being silent as it is. You manage to spot the commotion as you round yet another street corner, carefully crouching in the darkness to try and avoid detection. Luckily, those engaged with the situation are much too busy dealing with themselves to bother looking out for you. In the center of the street are two men accosting what looks to be a young lady. One of them has gone through the trouble of holding her mouth shut with his hand, using the other to try and keep her from running off, while his companion is busy trying to tie her hands behind her back. It's a pretty clear case of kidnapping, from where you stand.

Oddly enough, as you watch the scene unfold, you do find at least a few things suspicious about the sequence of events. Namely, despite the girl fighting back quite hard against her aggressors, they're being unusually ginger in trying to restrain her. You would expect unscrupulous thugs to simply knock her over the head until she stopped fighting and toss her in a sack, but they seem to be going to great lengths not to cause injury as they tie her arms down and work to gag her.

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

"No, no, it's not a bad time. I just wasn't expecting... unexpected company, I suppose," The half-elf responds with a wave of his hand, as if to dismiss the notion that you're bothering him. He leads you through the door and into the tower proper, the heavy oak swinging closed behind you as if by magic. The first floor of the tower is quite homey; there's some comfortable looking furniture surrounding a rich looking red rug, presumably the place where the master of the tower greets guests. There's also a handful of bookshelves lining the circumference of the circular drum, although you imagine the prime reading material is a little further up the winding staircase on the other floors. Bran makes his way to one of the finely upholstered couches and took a seat, gesturing for you to do the same.

"So, you wanted to know about the ruins of Thys Alari? I should warn you, they're not exactly a safe place to be. When the elves were forced to abandon it, they left all manner of sorcerous traps and guard creatures to watch over the ruins. Presumably to keep looters away... Which, you aren't, I hope?"

Elvara Greyfang (Firehead)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The crisp morning air does well to clear some of the fog in your head; despite being indoors and well-furred, it's still getting later in the year. As you make your way from the bedroom to the common room, you find your clothing sitting on the kitchen table, presumably stacked there by the farmer once he had gotten up and found them strewn all about. As if on cue, the door to the cottage opens up shortly after you arrival, and the man who had spent much of the prior night violating you so thorough walks in, a stack of logs under his arm. When he spots you, his eyes immediately drift down across your bare body, admiring your figure and his handiwork in equal parts.

"What a welcome sight," He muses to himself as he slowly draws his eyes off your breasts and to your face, "How're you feelin'? Certainly seemed out of it at sunrise. I'm settin' up a fire, so I could heat you some water. Seem like you might be needin' a wash, after last night. Could go for one myself..."

You get the implication that bathing together might lead to some amorous activities, considering the apparent libido on this man. Although the chance to experience his touch sober might be worth it, if your vague memories are any indication of your compatibility with the man.

Penelope Delights (Mark3000)

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Your lustful cries fill the night as the two men rut against your body in earnest. The one at your front hungrily devours your tits, sucking your nipples and rolling them between his teeth before messily pulling one to suction onto the other, leaving a trail of his saliva across your ample, bouncing rack. The man behind you is no slouch with his tongue either; you can feel his hot mouth on the nape of your neck, kissing and nipping and sucking your sweaty, mocha colored flesh with reckless abandon. The feeling of being utterly worshiped, their tongues and hands all over your body, their big, fat cocks filling both your holes... It's all too much. You cry out in orgasm, tensing in their arms as you soak them with your fluids. Yet that doesn't seem to stop them in the least. They continue to ravage you, even as you cum all around their cocks, the wetness of your release only adding to the obscene schlicking and lewd claps of flesh on flesh.

At some point in the manhandling, one of them grabs your other leg, hefting it up so you can lock it around the man in front. Completely suspended, they take you for all you're worth, satisfying you in ways a hurried fingering between watches could not. It's hard to tell how long they ravage you for, their stamina only aided by the liquor undoubtedly coursing through their veins, but the sloppy, passionate, primal fuck eventually comes to an end.

The guard claiming your asshole is the first to go, groaning heavy into the side of your neck, where he had been greedily sucking in the interim. You feel him lock up against you, sheathing himself deep into your ass and throbbing hard. Ropes of his thick, hot cum fill your backdoor completely, his balls pulsing against your generous cheeks as he relieves himself inside you. Either spurred on by the way you tense at that feeling, or reaching his own limit, the man in front also hits his peak, and you can feel every pump of his hefty shaft as he blows an impressive load as deep into you as is physically possible, his face buried between your tits as he grunts with the effort.

"Oh, fuck... Oh yer a real good lay, y'know that..." The guard behind you pants reverently, holding you taut despite himself along with his partner, "You stayin' in town? 'Cause I'll pay whatever the fuck ya want to have you again..."

[Mashugana]

Upon seeing the assault taking place, Crosses would stop to watch for a moment, trying to figure out the kidnapper's weapons or clothing along with the target's. It didn't look like they were trying to hurt her, so this could be a ransom situation perhaps, or a trafficking one. He'd heard that depending on what the slave is supposed to be for, they could be worth less if seriously injured or maimed. All the same, it looked like if he didn't intervene, eventually they'd wrestle her into submission and tie her down. He didn't want to risk unnecessary trouble, but then again...

Inwardly, Crosses murmured a plea to his grandfather and readied his axe, switching it round so that the hammer head was facing outwards. He didn't want to needlessly kill here. His plan was fairly simple and straightforward: smash the leg of the kidnapper closest to him, ideally before they know he's there, and then yell about a fire as loud as he could. People may decide to stay indoors and pretend they don't notice a kidnapping or assault, but fires tend to get everyone scrambling outside. Hopefully the panic and chaos would allow the stranger to escape, and he could make his way back to the inn without having to really fight or deal with authorities.

So, he'd make his advance, trying to stay quiet as long as he could before charging in, hopefully around the fifteen to ten feet mark between himself and the scuffle.

[kermitphrogg114]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Raagen Morcaryn (kermitphrogg)
"No, no, it's not a bad time. I just wasn't expecting... unexpected company, I suppose," The half-elf responds with a wave of his hand, as if to dismiss the notion that you're bothering him. He leads you through the door and into the tower proper, the heavy oak swinging closed behind you as if by magic. The first floor of the tower is quite homey; there's some comfortable looking furniture surrounding a rich looking red rug, presumably the place where the master of the tower greets guests. There's also a handful of bookshelves lining the circumference of the circular drum, although you imagine the prime reading material is a little further up the winding staircase on the other floors. Bran makes his way to one of the finely upholstered couches and took a seat, gesturing for you to do the same.

"So, you wanted to know about the ruins of Thys Alari? I should warn you, they're not exactly a safe place to be. When the elves were forced to abandon it, they left all manner of sorcerous traps and guard creatures to watch over the ruins. Presumably to keep looters away... Which, you aren't, I hope?"

Raagen looks around, studying the place. Clearly, Bran's mistress had quite the setup, and appears to be an accomplished wizard to have all this. It's something the winged elf aspires to, having her own hold and library as a base of operations.

"This is certainly a very lovely place here," she comments approvingly. "You mentioned your mistress, Elanora von Haustein. She seems to be a very accomplished archmage, going by this tower. Where is she right now?"

Raagen sits on the seat carefully, as though unwilling to blemish such a carefully cleaned piece of furtniture with her presence. She marvels at its comfort though; after weeks of sitting on blankets on top of dirt or on hard bar stools, the couch was positively luxurious.

"Thys Alari? That's it's name, then?" she remarks, committing the name to memory. "Regarding safety, rest assured, I'll be on my guard, and I've had some training regarding adventuring and looking out for myself.

"As for my interests," she continues, "no, I'm not there for looting. My personal journey across the Northmarches is purely academic, studying and analyzing the various ruins and historic sites across these distant lands. I will admit, the ancient Elven empire that once spread across these territories has piqued my interest, and will probably be the centerpiece of anything I might write about these ruins."

She then leans forwards in her seat, hands together, fingers laced, index fingers upright and pressing against each other in a steepling motion, as Raagen always does when contemplative.

"Setting up magical traps around a place... that doesn't sound like just something you do if you have a few precious items stashed away," she speaks up, thoughtfully. "Usually, you'd just take whatever wealth you have with you, and if you had money, you wouldn't abandon such a valuable location. That sounds more like something you'd want to keep nosy busybodies out of, or perhaps something you'd want to keep trapped in.

"I mean, a lot of the older kingdoms and empires down south abandoned old fortifications, but that hardly warranted booby-trapping these places. They're still dangerous, of course, but that's because monsters moved in when it was abandoned, or the place is literally falling apart and is practically a health hazard.

"Before it was abandoned, what were Thys Alari's functions? Was it just a border citadel, or was there evidence it was more than that? Why would they care about something they're basically going to abandon and forget?"