The Elvish Hero & the Bandit Queen {darkest_fate&translucentfeathers}

It always proved so enjoyable when a woman discovered a new pleasure. Zuri could feel Briala's confusion and pleasure as the tonguing worked her already heated body over so exquisitely. It was all too easy to picture the pretty woman sandwiched between them, much as she was now, riding a strap-on while getting fucked hard. Surely they'd have her for some time, enough to ensure that she received all the sexual training a woman of her build and beauty rightly deserved.

That soaked sex aligned and sank onto the cock. Zuri pulled away, listening to the groans and gasps coming from both Maxwell and Briala. The fit had to be snug: Zuri could actually see the cock stretching out the tight pussy. She watched Briala sinking herself onto him, bits of moisture rolling down the cock. Not satisfied to remain still, the dark elf began lapping, taking in the bits that drizzled forth while her fingers went up. Part of her hand spread those tight cheeks again while fingers moved forth. It took a little wiggling, but soon enough those talented digits were sliding in and out of Briala's tightly clenched rear, feeling the thrusts as the woman road the mercenary.

For his part, Maxwell had groaned as the woman sank upon his cock. He'd had some tight women before, and Briala had to rank among the tightest. Those hot wet walls squeezed him tighter than any hand could hope. He could feel his cock surging, pushing against her, working to reshape his cock. "There you are, slut," he hissed, squeezing her breast again, "stab that tight little pussy. Can you feel it?" he certainly did, his cock surging, releasing a little more precum into her churning sex. The mercenary groaned and shuddered, moving his own hips in time with Briala, sawing as he thrust up into his captive.

"Grab her hands, Zuri: she's trying to cheat," he said, chuckling. Zuri pulled herself up to grab onto Briala then. The darkling shifted, aligning herself so the she nestled against Briala's back, pulling the bandit queen against her. Her body pressed hard and she began kissing at Briala's neck, clearly starting to work the bandit queen over.

It was at this time that the entrance to the tent parted, a cloaked figure entering. "What is---what are you doing!?" they demanded. A hood fell back, revealing long, almost perfect, auburn hair that fell down beyond a tight rear. The lean warrior was clearly female, clearly an elf, and clearly beautiful enough to practically match the grinding bandit queen. "Unhand her!" The elfish female insisted, moving forward to yank Zuri away, glaring at the mercenary and trying to determine the situation and what needed doing.

The strerch and the intense pleasure left her reeling as Maxwell thrust into her, causing her entire body to jolt with shock as it felt like the heat spiked and the desire sparked to life, flaring through her as she cried out. Then she was getting wrenched back, the dark elf's hands prying her fingers away from herself and dragging Briala's body against her own tightly. The open mouthed kisses on her neck had her gasping as her hands clenched and unclenched, fighting desperately to free themselves and return to touching herself, from Zuri's tight grip.

She was so close it was painful, the forceful claiming leaving her shuddering against the dark elf's body as she began bucking her hips in earnest against Maxwell's thrusts. Chaos suddenly ensued. She heard rather than saw, a female intruder. The voice was demanding and angry though it's tones and the lilt to her speech had registered somewhere in Briala's mind as labeling this intruder as elven.

Briala's eyes snapped open when Zuri was torn from her and she glsnced up, trembling and flushed to see who was causing the commotion, who was attempting to stop this.

Beautiful was the first word that came to mind. Long auburn hair and sharp eyes with the delicate yet dangerous features that all elves had. Briala's hands came up to cling to Maxwell's shoulders and despite her desire to escape and beg this woman to help her, to get this man out of her and away from her, she feared what would happen if she stopped now, so close to orgasm. The terror at losing her sanity overrode any other desires along with the fresh wave of heat she felt surging through her.

Briala began working in earnest then, her hips rolling at just the right angle to get Maxwell to brush against that spot within her that had stars flashing behind her eyes. She came then, face tucking into the man's neck as she cried out, body writhing with the force of her orgasm, nails digging into his shoulders as she clenched around him so hard it tore a broken whimper from her lips.

The brunette so desperate to impale herself on Maxwell's cock had to be Briala, the Bandit Queen. Except that no news had come of her being this... this wanton. The beauty certainly matched. The woman's elvish blood clearly showed in her fine features, all of which radiated even through the filth and blood and muck she'd gathered during her time as a prisoner. The elf found herself looking over that undulating body, and for a brief moment, she almost wished that she were in Maxwell's place. There was that hesitation, that time where the elf looked at the brunette, their eyes meeting for just a moment there.

As half expected, the bandit moved with swiftness. She lunged forward, grabbed her lover, and ground down before the elf could even fully process that strange look she'd received. Yet again the hero could only stand there and stare as a pair of slender hips thrust down hard, clearly rolling and angling against their lover. There was something just so wanton, so primal about it that the elf felt her heart skipping a beat for a moment.

Finally that training kicked in. The elf almost jerked, her head shaking slightly. "No!" she ordered, diving down. Maxwell had arched up, groaned. At just that moment, his cock had started to swell, to threaten to deposit its load within Briala's churning insides. The elf didn't know much about the details, but she knew that she couldn't allow this to happen. So slender finger dug into a set of churning balls, while others locked around a shaft. The elf looked disgusted as she felt Maxwell surging against her.

"The hell you doing, elf?" he demanded, lurching upright, not caring about Briala still clinging to him. Maxwell could feel where her nails had left marks in his flesh, quite visible signs. "You can't just come in here and---let go of my cock, dammit!"

"I will not!" the elf insisted, instead squeezing harder. She moved to try and nudge Briala off. "I cannot believe what I'm witnessing! Are you attempting to rape a prisoner? I should cut off this part, since it's clearly all you're thinking with."

"Does it look like he's raping her?" the darkling asked, rising and walking over to loom over the elf's shoulder. The auburn haired beauty twisted from one to the other, before looking at Briala, who had quite obviously came only moments before. "She's quite willing, this Briala. Spent most of her time here begging for a fuck or writhing those hips of hers. You can still see the dried half-orc seed in her hair."

The elf studied the panting beauty, moving to try and get a better look at her. She did look... satiated. But there were spells and the like to emulate that, were there not?

As she slowly spiraled down from her release, from her orgasm, she whimpered slightly at the way the elf had moved forward, hands keeping the mercenary leader from reaching his own completion. The twisted irony that he had been left wanting while she had finally found her laughing, albeit internally; she felt too boneless from her rough treatment, throat too hoarse drom her cries to truly laugh openly. She lifted her head slowly as she heard Maxwell protest and winced slightly when he vaulted forward, nearly throwing her into the elven warrior.

At this mysterious elf's gentle nudging she slipped off of Maxwell, a soft hiss escaping between her teeth at the ache she felt in her legs and sex. She fell limply back on the bed, curling in on herself as she waited for the tremors of her aftershocks from the edged orgasm to subside. At the accusatory tone of the elf she heard the dark shaman intervene, stepping up to defend her and Maxwell's actions and assault against her, even mocking her begging and pleas for release. She was making her sound like a common whore.

Briala used her arms to push herself up off the bed under the watchful and calculated look the elf who rushed in was giving her, chest heaving as she sucked in air. Her soft wide brown eyes narrowed on the dark elf after a moment as she felt her strength and her fire return despite the thoroughly debauched look she sported underthings unkempt and wrenched about her body from where Maxwell's cick and Zuri's tongue had taken her, breasts swelling under the loose binding.

"You lie," she spat bitterly as she zeroed in on the dark elf before her hateful gaze turned to glare at Maxwell as well. "You shot me up with something, you witch, so you could turn me into a simple play thing to exploit in my time here." She slipped off of the bed then, fists clenching as she glowered at both of them. You are disgusting, both of you. You took away my will and have left me some sort of useless creature with heat afflictions every few hours!" She stalked over, shoving Zuri hard, not caring she had no armor or weapon to back up her assault.

"And for your twisted information, if someone is unwilling it is considered rape, regardless of what you do to their biology to force them into begging for release. I should kill you with my bare hands," she growled before shoving the dark elf again, this time her foot lashing out against the shaman's ankles in hopes of sending her into the ground the way she had seen Briala fall so many times during her stay here.

The elf watched the bandit carefully, feeling the tension thickening in the room. Never would she have thought that she and Briala the bandit queen would be on the same side, but she had a sinking suspicion that they'd need to work together if they were to have any hope of getting out of here. Indeed, Briala spat hatred at the darkling, making the elf follow turn to look. As she felt Maxwell shift, she tightened her grip: she would rip off his genitals if he kept at it.

"Shot her up?" the elf repeated, looking to Maxwell. The mercenary sneered while Briala continued. It sounded as if they'd used some sort of strange... but that concoction didn't exist, surely? The elf had heard rumors, something about drugs that could literally alter someone's.... but those effects were said to be permanent! And the way Briala spat made it quite clear that they'd been torturing her for some time. The elf saw Briala attacking the darkling.

Zuri, for her part, was not amused. She'd seen, even met, this elvish hero before. The woman might not be as uptight as Briala had been before their work, but she'd been another that Zuri wouldn't mind seeing writhing on the floor. She wished she'd thought to prepare another of the mixtures, granting them two subjects instead of one. Then this redhaired bitch would be holding Maxwell's cock for a very different reason.

The darkling took a step back as Briala shoved, smirking. "I just brought out the whore inside you, Briala the bandit slut," she dropped, chuckling.

The elf saw the foot coming and actually lunged, pulling Briala back slightly. "We're outnumbered and illequipped," she hissed into the brunette's ear. "Stay your wrath and we may get out of this," she looked back to Maxwell. "You're going to release the prisoner to me, and we're going to leave this camp. If you attempt to stop us, you'll find yourselves quite dead and the enemies of the Empire," she looked around for a moment before turning back to Briala.

"She gets dressed. In whatever she chooses. Then we leave. Or I start by taking these," she squeezed, "and let Briala have her way with her," she nodded toward the darkling.

The two mercenaries frowned, but it wasn't as if there was any room for argument here. Maxwell's pain had increased to the point where all he could do is glare, and Zuri certainly didn't want to lose her favorite toy.

Briala almost turned and lashed out when the elven warrior had grabbed at her, preventing her from starting something with Zuri that she had hoped woukd have ended with the dark elf crumpled and writhing on the floor in pain. She bit her tongue though, the logic in the elf's warning clearing her head as she nodded.

She ripped off the filthy undergarments and searched through several chests and packs until she found something clean and looking unused to dress in. Grabbing her pants and her shirt she threw both on before shrugging on her vest, though she didn't bother tying it. She wouldn't take more than she needed to cover herself with, she could always mend tears or find new things to wear down the road. She didn't want to wear that dark elf's garb.

"You may have gotten lucky this time she said in a low voice, eyes narrowed dangerously on the two mercenaries, "But one day I will return and I will see thst you suffer the same pain, humiliation and fear you inflicted on me." Right before she ripped their throats out.

With one last spiteful glare aimed at the duo she headed for the front of the tent, eyes scanning the nearby camps before stalking over and plucking simple dress, something dark brown with a corseted bodice and a red shirt to go underneath that she could change into once they left this miserable place until she could clean the filth from the clothes she currently wore.

Briala gave a biting look to anyone who started to protest or approach, stilling them in their tracks before she returned to the tent, hoping the elf had removed Maxwell's genitalia as threatened.

The two mercenaries were still very pissed. This had definitely not gone their way at all: Maxwell's balls and dick had swollen almost grotesquely, his suppressed orgasm causing him immense pain. The elf looked pissed, and elves were known for turning down payment if they believed some deal of honor had been besmirched.

"You'll get paid," the hero said, almost as if reading their minds. She watched Briala move around. In truth, she would rather sever their genitals and kill them for this. The shame they'd brought would mean that at least the elf would have to treat Briala with kid gloves, a thought that partially disgusted the hero. This was a half-elven bandit who plagued her kingdom and was responsible for hindering her people, yet now she'd have to play along, nearly coddle her. Worse, if what the elf suspected was true.

The threat made the elf seriously concerned. She gave Maxwell another hard look, and the mercenary just grinned. They all remained while Briala left. "Awful lot of trouble for a girl your people are gonna murder," the mercenary leader said. The elf looked away, toward the bandit. She'd looked so fiery then, almost familiar in some way.

"If you return to this camp or meet us again, you can expect to wind up on your knees," Zuri promised, seething. The elf looked to her, raising her brows slightly. Somehow that seemed unlikely: either their meeting or Zuri being able to best her. They'd sent her after all, one of the strongest in the empire.

Then Briala returned, holding clothing. "Ready?" the elf said, nodding. She gave Maxwell's genitals another twist, looking to him. "Be thankful we had a contract,' she said, her voice dead before she squeezed hard, causing Maxwell to shout and Zuri to move. With one last shove, the elf released and turned. The mercenary's orgasm happened belatedly, cum splattering out in what was clearly pain.

"We move, now," the elf said, gesturing toward Briala. "Griffon on the edge of their camp: move as quick as you can. If you need me to carry you, say so now," she was already reaching for one of the short swords that lay over her shoulders. The mercenaries were fingering weapons, but so far nothing had happened. The tension though...

Briala watched the transaction before shaking her head quickly. She shifted, following despite the sore muscles and aches lacing through her. Keeping up with the elf's pace Briala followed her direction to make her way towards the griffon on the side of the camp she had been directed towards.

Briala eyed the camp carefully, noticing several guards had gathered outside of their boss' tent at the sounds of Maxwell's pained cries and Zuri's outraged threats. She was ill equipped and weak from the lack of food and abuse she had suffered during her stay here. Briala continued to walk, picking up her pace when she realized she didn't have a weapon or means of defending herself should this break out into violence and she hated the idea of being defenseless with nothing but a dress to cling to.

Staying close to the elf who had stepped in and spared her from the torture and abuse Maxwell and Zuri had been intent on subjecting her to, Briala knew it would have continued for much longer than one session if they had been given the choice. Seeing their new plaything taken from them undoubtedly left their pride hurt which was dangerous, especially around a group who wuite obviously lacked any sense of morals or honor. While Briala disliked the idea of relying on someone who bled for elven kingdom, she could recognize the need and value of a tense temporary alliance...at least until they escaped this hell.

She felt guilt swarm her at the thought of turning her back on all she stood for with this temporary ally, and she loathed the way she had felt a slight rush of attraction and arousal towards the red haired warrior when she had been incapacitated by the arousal the cursed heat left her battling. While this elf was beautiful Briala would need to be sure to escape from her grasp quickly, before another wave of lust hit her and left her scrambling for purchase within her mind and clinging to what little sanity she had in those moments. The idea of possibly needing to rely on this woman or any other elf in her company was...terrifying.

The mercenary leaders would be pissed, but the elf was also counting on them not being able to attack her directly. There would be too much consequence, even for people such as Maxwell and Zuri. It wouldn't hurt that the elf could easily take out at least the first several who attacked her. Mercenaries might be willing to fight for their boss's pride, but she highly doubted they'd want to die for it. She and Briala should be able to get out of there with their skins intact.

"I'd arm you if I thought you'd give it back," the elf said as they moved passed the middle of the camp, "or if I knew for certain that I wouldn't find a blade in my own back when we reached my mount," she gave the bandit a wry grin before looking back ahead. The other woman clearly needed cleaning: some sort of bath, preferably with odors to get the stench off her. Briala must not notice, but she smelled awful. All the sex, not to mention being painted with semen, had left her smelling considerably less than fresh.

"Not long," the elf said as she could see her griffon. They hadn't attacked it... yet. She glanced over to Briala. "Chances are high they attack as soon as we get to the sky," she informed the bandit, sheathing her sword for a moment. She did have a bow and arrows of her own, as nearly every elf did, but she wasn't confident she could shoot and steer the griffon. The elf looked at it, then at Briala, then at the camp. Should she trust the other to at least try and fire back somewhat? The elf just couldn't quite trust the half-elf who was to be her captive...

Briala heard the other elf's words and simply made a disgruntled noise in response to the jest. "You would be much more likely to find it in one of their backs then yours. You hope to get me from here, so for now? We have a common goal...though you are right to worry about the returning of your weapon once we make it from this hell," she offered with an equally wry and strained smile.

When Briala noiced the elf's bow her eyes lit up, and she felt as though all of the pains and aches and debasing of the previous day were simply slipping away at the idea of holding a weapon she felt was more of an extension of her limbs than an object in her hands again. She noticed this elf warrior apparently had a similar idea, glancing between the long curved wooden bow and her captive. It had always been her weapon of choice, silent and deadly, Briala could use it at a distance to snipe off enemies and defend her people without requiring them to be thrown into harms way. While a sword or blade was always on hand when she traveled or fought, something about aligning her body with the bow and being able to extend her desires manifested in an arrow beyond her physical reach was thrilling.

With a confident smirk, the feeling of her old self returning with each distancing step she placed between herself and the people of this camp she jerked her chin. "If you give me those arrows and a means of defense I can keep any attacks at bay while we are airborn," she promised firmly. "I am a good shot and if we live then we can worry ourselves about you reclaiming the weapon. I can't escape from you though if we both die in the mud here, and I would prefer my death to carry some semblance of dignity and respect rather than while I am half starved and covered in filth."

Briala waited, continuing to follow until they reached the griffon, noticing a few further guards motioning for cross bows and bolts. She wondered if this elf would be able to look past her hatred for her and disdain to risk the chance of them surviving this. "You don't need to trust me, just believe I am smart enough to recognize your death brings me no gain in this moment."

Yes, for now, it seemed much more likely that Briala would attack and/or kill her tormentors rather than the unnamed elf who had showed up and effectively pulled her from this cesspit. Even the elf had to realize that, even as she felt the ingrained racial prejudice toward someone of mixed blood. Briala clearly knew how to use a bow and use it well: the elf could see that look, let alone hear the confident claims.

"Fine, take the bow," the elf said, hand returning to her sword. Elves weren't supposed to hand over their bows to anyone besides themselves. It was a fairly personal item, something that the elf had made and shaped and enchanted herself. However, she hadn't become a hero by being a dreamer or stupid. It was like Briala said: they needed to rely on each other to get out of here.

"The quiver is there," the elf said, nodding. "I'll guide Alahora," this time a nod to the griffon, "and you'll attempt to make sure that they don't shoot us down. They will fire, filthy mercenaries,' the elf snarled slightly, speeding up. She was thankful she hadn't unsaddled or even tended to Alahora, though the griffon looked slightly worn from the quick flight here. He'd carry the two of them, but it would be straining on him; they'd have to fly low and he'd likely damage something if they flew too long.

Dammit, this was why the hero had been against mercenaries. But the arguments had been too good: they'd been stretched too thin, needed others to take the wounds. The elf rolled onto her mount, leaning to offer Briala a hand, knowing that those with human blood weren't nearly as graceful, and that was when they hadn't been exposed to whatever Briala had faced back there.

Swallowing what little shreds of pride she still retained she took the elf's hand and swallowed back the pained noise that struggled to escape her as she pulled herself onto the griffons broad back. Briala was grateful at least that this elven warrior was willing to listen to some sense of reason and was willing to shelve what bigotry she had for a 'half-breed'. Arming herself with the bow she repositioned the quiver for better access, her fingers brushing over the first slender arrow she drew to familiarize herself with its weight before she tested the tautness of the bow string.

The moment they left rhe ground had her breath rushing out of her in a gasp. She had never ridden one of these beasts before and found a small sliver of herself feeling a rush of adrenaline at the the height and pull of the griffons wings against the air. It was intoxicating and invigorating and she wanted to let out a shout and just sink into the rush that she craved so desperately in her life, the sweet taste of adrenaline that drove her to live as freely as she did.

She remembered herself though and readied the bow, firing off the first shot when she saw a man raise his own cross bow in their direction. Her arrow held true, singing down and striking the man dead instantly. She saw the mercenaries scramble then and her grin broadened as some fled for cover while others raced for range weapons. She plucked off the braver of the two, easily dropping one after the other until they stopped their attempts to shoot the griffon down or strike Briala and her latest captor.

The wood of the bow felt strong and warm in her hand and she kept it held up, poised for another volley if she needed to even after they had lost sight of the camp. Once the rush ended her arms grew weary, and ached from the strain of the activity after what she had endured. Ignoring the way her stomach seemed to claw at itself in hunger, Briala focused on staying as far from the redhaired frame in front of her as she was able without falling off the back of the griffon.

Onto the beast, reins grasped. The elf leaned forward, speaking in her own tongue. This was the tricky part, the part she was slightly concerned about. Others would think her mad for even considering placing trust in a half-blood like Briala, particularly one that was supposed to be her prisoner. Yet the mercenaries had left the hero no other choice: it was a matter of getting away and getting away alive. The elf could feel the brunette behind her gathering up the bow and fighting. Rather impressive, considering what she'd been through.

A few bolts and arrows did make it up from the the camp, but, as the elf had predicted, the mercenaries were unwilling to die for their bosses' honor (particularly given the utter lack Maxwell and Zuri had). Still, the elf could tell that Alahora had been clipped in the wing. Put that with the other bits and...

"We're going to need to land soon," the elf said, glancing over her shoulder. Briala looked exhausted. The elf grasped her wrist, looking into the bandit's eyes. "Keep yourself together for at least a little while longer," she said. "We'll land and sort through what we can. I can give you food, and we'll land next to a water source so that you can scrape some of the filth off you," the elf turned then, moving the griffon toward an inlet she knew to be nearby. The little bit would have some fresh drinking water and would be fairly defensible; the elves had designed it as such. She was still wondering what she'd have to do with Briala then. The original plan had been to effectively truss up the bandit and drop her at the nearest lord, but that had been before the elf had seen what had happened.

The griffon dipped, heading toward ground. The elf hissed and worked to getting them at least somewhere close to where they wanted to be; they'd probably end up landing just outside the area, needing to walk the last few bits.

The promises of food and potentially being able to wash had her focus, and the grip on Briala's wrist drew her back into reality so she could hold on long enough. She wondered though what would happen next. This elf was clearly skilled but with food and rest Briala felt she may have a chance of besting her if she caught the warrior off guard. It was a tempting thought, though she ignored the sickening fear about what would happen when that cursed heat struck her helpless again. Would she have time to make it between wherever the elf was landing to her people between the waves? The further they went she didn't think so and it pained her to think she may need to either submit to being turned into a captive within the Elven Kingdom or find herself insane and dying alone in the woods from unmet desires and an inablity to care for herself.

Thoughts of how she would handle the arousal and heat in the meantime, had her studying the back of the elf in front of her. She felt a slightly shameful blush creep over her features as she eyed the curve of the elf's hips and that long dark red hair for a few moments too long, mind wandering with heated thoughts that she couldn't blame the heat for this time.

Briala felt the griffon begin to sink lower to the earth despite the elf's best efforts to make it the little bit further. When they landed she felt herself left out a heavy sigh, shifting and stumbling off of the creature before growing silent as she studied her surroundings. She knew they had a bit of distance before she could rest and had she the strength to run now would have been the best opportunity. Briala knew when it was better to stay put and not fight, despite what the world seemed to believe about her.

The landing had been somewhat rough, and the elf imagined things had to be even worse for her companion. She looked to Briala, noticing the strain, the way the woman moved and fought against her own body's ache. Elvish eyes could clearly see how the woman pushed through a good deal. "Why don't we establish at least a temporary truce?" the elf suggested, gesturing. "You're clearly in no shape to escape, and I refuse to hunt down or abuse someone for sport. So for the time being, let's focus on getting you back into a shape resembling something sentient and respected and put aside our quarrels."

Because just looking at the disheveled woman made the elf want to go back and start chopping off genitals. What the hell had they done to her? There had been talk of drugs and lasting effects and clearly food and water and tending to the prisoner hadn't been high on the list. Apparently they'd wanted to fuck her... which the elf could understand. Briala was a beauty. But still, they could've at least tended to her.

For now, they had further to walk. The elf nodded, pointed, and started leading them toward the little nook. They'd have to move through trees, and without knowing where to look, the hideaway would be nearly impossible to find. Trees and other flora encircled it tightly, leaving lush, soft grass in the middle. Stores of food, mostly fruits and vegetables with a few dried meats, had been set aside next to a few skins of wine and of course, the pool of fresh water. The elf helped Briala long, assuming the brunette would allow, and they'd be within it soon enough.

"You'll want to tend to your needs," the elf said, nodding and pointing. "Clean yourself first: I insist. If you require aid, let me know. I'll get the rest of the supplies sorted," and she moved to do precisely that.

"An elf who ascribes herself to standards and morals?" She muttered, the sarcasm and biting tone not coming our nearly as aggressive as she was used to. "Tell me how the fall from your high horse treats you when you eventually are faced with the reality that you and your kind invented the sport of abusing others," she said bitterly. "Just because you are more formal in your seclusion and bigotry doesn't make you a single ounce better than any other individual who takes advantage of those less fortunate. You just wash your hands clean better between your mud slinging to hide the filth you hurl towards anyone you feel is inferior."

It was a raging that had built from years of neglect and torment at the hand of her mother's own kind, the abuse and racism she had endured simply because her parents had made a choice that she could no more help than the color of her eyes. She felt the rage and exhaustion from the last few days boil over to a point beyond turning back from. "You may have helped me, but it was because of duty and it being required of you. We may have a tentative truce for now but do not think that you are in any way a better creature for not being willing to abuse a half starved already injured captive. That isn't a noteworthy, merely doing what any average decent person would."

She glared at the ground before following the elf's lead and shrugging off her attempts to help, hating the idea of feeling weak, of being in need of anyone's care. After years of never receiving it the idea seemed foreign and terrifying. She folded her arms tightly about herself when they reached the hidden inlet before moving to bathe first as was insisted. She almost lashed out again but even Briala had to agree she hated the current bloodied filthy state she was in.

She managed to make her way over to the intended area that the elf had pointed her to, slipping off her garments and clothing, tossing them onto the grass in a heap before she slipped her lithe naked form into the wster, sinking underneath the surface completely.

It felt rejuvenating, the water sweeping through her hair as she washed the muck, blood and cum from the long delicate mess of curls. With a soft gasp she rose, catching her breath for a moment before slipping her hands over herself, washing away the filth and grime with long slinder fingers, rubbing at the aches and pains she felt deep within her bones.

How often had the elf heard stupid humans ranting about such things? These short-sighted fools never could see beyond their own passions and lives. At least the elf could see some of the appeal in wanting to take one to your bed; that passion had to transfer fairly well. She'd become a hero precisely because she'd been out in the world, doing what it took, what was necessary. So in part, she almost agreed with the various rantings and so forth. This didn't make her want to listen to Briala's prattle any more.

"Wash and rest," the elf reiterated, knowing what the bandit really needed right now. Besides, she knew full well that her people were superior. They were doing what was right in the world, and people like Briala were the ones who were very much in the wrong. And the elf stared as Briala continued. "I highly doubt that any average person would've stared down bandits, but you're right in that anyone should've protested what happened to you," she looked away then. She didn't want to apologize for the actions of others, even if she felt somewhat obligated to do precisely that. This situation was horrible all around, and now the elf was stuck, obligated to this irritating human.

There was almost that insistence to clean Briala again, but instead the elf simply tended to their supplies, gathering enough for a few meals, making sure to be careful in selecting the ones for Briala. She studied the bandit's clothing, nose wrinkling at its condition. How long had they even had her? It couldn't have been too long. The elf turned, pausing again as she saw the lithe beauty cleaning herself. Briala certainly took after her elvish parent, that much was certain. The elf went back to gathering up her weapons, glad to have her bow again. She set these aside, keeping only one short sword for the time being.

"I'll grant you a hunting knife when you're out of there," the elf said, looking over the supplies. "I'd rather you be at least somewhat armed, and I'm fairly confident you can't best me with that," she glanced over at Briala again, studying her. The bandit queen was tough, but she surely couldn't best one of the empire's finest.

She heard the elven hero's words and they made her smile to herself as she sank back into the water, chuckling. "You are right, perhaps, but then again you know what they say about making assumptions," she stated simply in reply to the comment this elven woman made in regards to Briala being unable to best her. "Dangerous to underestimate a potential rival, little miss knife ear," she said, using the slander she had hesrd coined for the elves during her years spent in the human slums when she finslly fled elven control.

She glsnced over with a shrug before fully turning to meet the other's gaze with a calm steady look of her own, noticing how the elf had watched her bathe for a moment before returning to preparing supplies for a meal. Well, at least when the moment that she knew was looming awkwardly on the horizon hit it didn't seem like the redhaired hero would be entirely opposed to helping her...it was something they needed to discuss though.

She climbed out if the water, locating the clean undergarments to slip on over her hips before wrapping the bindings around her breasts. Briala used her foot to nudge the filthy clothes into the water before crouching down next to the bank to scrub at them as her skin dried, hair a wild mane of damp clean curls leaving rivulets of water streaming down her bare shoulders and naked back.

"There is going to be an issue in a short while that we are going to need to discussed," she began, watching the woman out of the corner of her eyes even as she scrubbed her clothes.

The mention of Briala being a rival had the elf chuckling, not to mention the slang term. she'd heard that slur used before, heard it and far, far worse. It always struck her as being almost complimentary, really. Strange that someone with elvish blood would be so against them, but the elf supposed that might be part of the cause of it.

She worked at cleaning and tending to her weapons for a bit, before idly resting, nibbling on a particularly succulent piece of fruit. She kept her attention divided between her captive and the area around them. They should be safe here, but the moment guard dropped was the moment you regretted most. It did strike the elf as odd that Briala bound her breasts, particularly given that they weren't exactly voluptuous. The elf had always opted for the more modern variants on clothing herself.

The comment had the elf looking up, eyebrows raised. "Does this have something to do with the drugging you mentioned?" she asked. "I'd heard rumors that there may be some alchemical mixes that have results similar to what you're describing, but nothing's actually been tested or proven on thinking creatures before," mostly because that would be inhumane, which the elf neglected to add for the moment. She studied Briala again. It would explain why the bandit had been somewhat willing to lay with someone she clearly had no care for, but the elf still had to wonder. After all, the brunette did have human blood, and they were known for their passions...

She snorted. "Trust me, they tested this material on others," she said bitterly. "The one before me apparently went insane from too high of a dosage. I was nothing more than a test subject they hoped would survive long enough to be a toy for them to use." Briala stared down at her wet clothes before shifting to stand and begin hanging them across the tree branches at the edge of their camp before plucking up the dark red blouse to slip on. It came down to the top of her thighs, barely brushing against her buttocks, the long sleeves fell loosely off her slender shoulders and down low over her pale chest. The soft brown dress was thrown on then, cinching the waist tightly as she laced the front focused bodice up before walking over to sit across from the elf.

"It leaves me incapable of controlling myself for a time," she muttered. "Waves of heat hit me and drive all logic and rational thought from me until all I can think is to beg for release from whomever is within my proximity when I fall under its effects." Briala glared at rhe ground silently for a moment before continuing, tucking her knee against her chest, the other folded under her. "If I don't receive that release they said my mind would break under the pressure."

She ran a hand through her drying hair, ignoring the tangles as she simply focused on the ground, wondering how the elf would respond...if she would respond. Long pale fingers plucked absently at the hem of the dress skirt while focusing on a loose thread she played with. "It is apparently permanent and not something than can be cured by anything short of insanity or death."

Briala continued, and the elf found herself fighting the urge to show the extreme shock that came over her. They'd actually tested such a concoction? On people? Even if they had been humans or even lower lifeforms, that was still wholly unacceptable. These mercenaries were darker than even the elf had suspected. Something had to be done about them.

But first, something needed to be done with Briala. The elf watched the bandit dress, mostly because she needed to make sure that there weren't any hidden weapons or anything of the kind. Sharp ears picked up the words even though they were muttered: waves of heat. They'd literally found a way to put her body into heat. That made the elf wince: to lose control of yourself in such a manner. She didn't quite ascribe to certain more reserved versions of sexuality herself. Again, when you traveled a good deal, your mind opened up to match. Yet the elf couldn't help but think this truly debauched.

"I would wager you do not want sympathy," the elf said, speaking carefully, "but I feel your pain regardless," she looked away for a moment, toward the water, wondering just what had been washed away. Nothing would cure her but insanity or death? "I can't allow you to roam free. Not simply because of the quarrel between our people, but the way you phrase it, there are only two paths," she looked to Briala, "either you end up taking someone, or being taken, or you end up losing your mind. Neither is acceptable," she paused again, considering. "You do realize that I am the only other being around? Are you comfortable with my providing your relief? Or should we attempt to find someone else?" Not that the elf could really think of a place they could get to in a hurry. The whole point of heading here had been to hide out for the time being, after all. Perhaps she should consider constructing something? But would that even work. There was much here they simply didn't understand...

"Would I have much choice? It isn't like we are anywhwere near any sort of town or village where we could even locate other people let alone someone willing." She sat down, legs folded in front of her as she picked at the hem of the skirts of the browm dress she had taken. "For me at this point I don't have the luxury of being choosey, and if you remember the sight you had walked in on, it didn't matter that I wanted nothing more than to slit their throats, and yet? I willingly did things with them because that is the point that this...this affliction drives me to."

Briala blew out a breath, eyes studying the soft cool grass before her as her long fingers turned to slipping through the blades rather than picking at the threads on the dress. "My concern isn't so much for what I want because in the heat of those moments? Anyone will do as long as I get the release to keep me from insanity. You aren't in that same situation, and you...I don't want things for you to be forced if you aren't willing." She shook her head quickly, "I am not alluding to the fact that I would attack you and attempt force, simply that you shouldn't need to put yourself in a situation with me you would loathe or regret later."

She wasn't sure where the sentiment was coming from, her concern for this elf's interests and her honor for a lack of a better word. Perhaps it was from the abuse and travesties she had been forced to go through, despite her willingness and even begging for it...it had still been non-consensual and she loathed that she had been subjected to it. Briala couldn't imagine someone else being forced into that position, especially on her behalf. "I know it may not make sense to you, but I don't feel up to explaining it, nor do I expect some trite comfort or attempts to soothe. I simply need to know if you are a willing option."

Was there a choice? The elf considered, again looking toward the distance. Assuming they didn't find an elf village, it shouldn't be too hard to find someone willing enough. Briala certainly looked appealing enough; she'd even caught the elf's eyes from time to time. The elvish blood did do wonders to the poor human stock. The almost pessimism there, the bit about how the drug apparently made her quite willing to do whatever... that bothered the elf. She'd been fighting for the empire for years now, likely longer than Briala had been alive. It had only been recently that they'd had to resort to using mercenaries, and this was precisely why the elf had been among those to argue against it. Yet even being a heroine for her people only left her so many options.

The next bit had the elf looking over, quirking a brow. "I'm hardly a blushing maiden, if that's the concern," she replied, chuckling slightly. "You wouldn't even be the first woman I'd lain with," she considered for a moment, "possibly the first half-elf, though that isn't always apparent, but certainly not the first woman," the elf shrugged. When you were fighting, stranded and far from civilization, you took comfort where you could. Only a fool assumed that people left to their own devices wouldn't resort to whatever it took to allow themselves to feel a little pleasure.

So loathe it? Likely not. Regret? Possibly, depending on how it went.

The elf heard Briala continue, and she realized what was going on at the core: the bandit had essentially been raped and had no wish to be a perpetrator in such actions. The elf fought the urge toward natural pity, a habit she'd thankfully developed, and instead looked at the half elf.

"are you any good?" she asked, trying not to let too much humor slide into her voice. "Because I imagine that would be a factor to take into consideration. You come off as a rather uncouth bandit after all, and I'm assuming that you weren't with many women in the past," the elf fought back further smiles. "In all sincerity though, I'm willing enough. I could hardly let your insanity go on my conscience, and I've been told I'm a rather attentive and considerate lover. Of course," the elf tilted her head slightly, "those are rather biased opinions, and I'm hardly going to tell you I'm a dead fish..."

Briala arched an eyebrow at the almost...teasing manner the other woman had taken on. She seemed to almost find ansense of humor in it when asking if Briala had been experienced with women. In truth, she hadn't. Men had always been a quicker option for emotionless fucking that had no ties and could move on the next day, granted she knew the blanket assumptions did not apply to every female but the few women she had experienced moments of passion with? Ended up becoming crestfallen and angered when she did not return their desires to begin a relationship. She knew there were plenty of men who also could develop emotional attachments, just as there were surely other women like her who could have a roll in between the sheets without expecting more, just in her experiences? She found the afore mentioned statement much more true. In this case she doubted such a thing would be an issue and she ran her eyes over the elf before her, finding herself tempted to show her just what it was she knew of women and if she was 'any good'.

Briala thought it over and found slight relief in the fact that this hero would be a willing partner, in their dalliance which gave her some comfort. She let herself smile for the first time in days, one that had a playful edge as she took the other woman's teasing words as a challenge, rolling her shoulder slightly as her attentions became solely focused on the elf in front of her. "Well, I can make no promises as to my level of skill or ability when I am under the influences of my...affliction...but when I have been of a sound mind I have never left a woman or man wanting or dissatisfied."

It had been a year since she had felt thr soft curves of a feminine body tangling with hers, and in truth while men had their appeal she always found herself craving the fairer sex. She supposed it was why the dark elf shaman had been so tempting and she had kept hoping for more with her when the waves of lust rolled through her rather than the half-orc or their leader. But she did not wish to dwell on such things now, no. Now she wished to focus purely on the elf in front of her.

Briala rose to her feet, bare feet padding across grass before she came to stand before the elven warrior, sinking to her knees slowly in front of her sitting form. There was a dark teasing smile on her face as she considered the woman before her, "Suppose it would be fair to have a trial run, to ensure I am up to your standards before I am hit again with another episode?" Her hands reached out to shove at the red haired woman's shoulders slightly, pushing at her form in attempts to coax her back on the ground.

How horrendous was this affliction? The elf had to wonder, and part of her almost wanted to witness what Briala would be like under its effects. Since the elf had met the bandit, she'd seen nothing but a confident, intelligent woman who clearly had an impressive set of skills and an equally impressive control over herself. There had been those obvious moments of rage, but given everything that had been inflicted upon the half-elf, that was hardly surprising. It had been perhaps poor taste on the elf's part to joke, but at the same time, she couldn't fully help herself. Too much time alone and spent in the company of the rougher sort had worn the polished elfish edges smooth.In truth, The elf had almost been considering requesting an extended term of leave in the empire to gather her wits.

Now she was almost wondering if she shouldn't have gone through with that idea. For Briala rose up and padded to her, looking almost like some sort of wood nymph. There was something in the almost eagerness there that almost put the elf on her guard. The teasing smile certainly made Briala look quite fetching, but the elf was willing to bet that several merchants had thought similarly before they'd found their throats cut.

Hands moved up and the bandit half-teased, half-forced as the elf found herself pushing back slightly. She reached for the bandit's arm, grabbing it, not quite pushing away but certainly holding still. "You just suffered a traumatic experience," the elf said, her voice measured, her eyes studying Briala closely. "Most women who go through what you have hardly turn around and look for more," she paused again. It had been some time, and there were occasions when someone displayed affect toward a hero in this manner. "I'd also be a complete fool to think that Briala the Bandit Queen wouldn't attempt to seduce me to get free," she looked up, raising her brows, "even if that does strike me as the most ridiculous route to take at this point. You couldn't get far without a mate and I highly doubt you'd want your affliction to become common knowledge."

Because the moment enough people learned that this beauty would become a panting, wanton slattern within a certain time frame, Briala would find her legs almost permanently spread.