Beneath an Endless Sky (Shiva x Pazzo)

[Shiva the Cat]

It was supposed to be a quiet evening.

Things had been going so well for Batu Khan all spring. The Horde had secured good grazing lands for their herds of horses and buffalo in the east, and while they'd sadly lost some tribute territory in the north, the warlords in the area had been happy to form an alliance with their former conquerors to stave off even more violent attacks from wilder tribes beyond the steppes. True, Batu Khan would never be Ganba Khan, but that was probably a good thing. The last leader of the horde had been a monster, burning, raping, and slaughtering everything in his path until every living person from the Frozen Sea to the Burning Desert called him lord and whispered in fear of his army of fiendish warriors.

But Ganba Khan had been dead for more than ten years now, and it was his son, Batu Khan, who led the Horde now. Or at least, what was left of it. Many of Ganba Khan's followers had gone off on their own after his death, setting up their own territories and calling themselves Khan, King, Emperor, Lord, and a thousand other empty titles. The loyal ones had stayed to advise Batu Khan, who was now in his thirtieth year but still looked half that age, with his round face, bewildered eyes, stammering voice, and thin body hardly resembled his legendary father. Until he got on a horse.

For hundreds of years after Batu Khan would go to meet his ancestors, descendents of the Horde would say there was never such an archer as Batu Khan. They said he could fire fifty arrows in a minute and never miss a mark, and could ride standing on the back of his horse while he did so. He was almost as vicious with a blade, provided he stayed mounted and did not attempt to fight on his own two feet. Somehow, Batu Khan was never sure of himself on solid ground, and as a result often held council while riding across the planes on the back of his most beloved steed, Salkhi.

Of course this was little trouble for most of his councilors; every member of the Horde could ride almost as soon as they could walk. But there was only one among the Khan's inner circle who quite shared his love of horses, and that was his sister, Samira Veda. Like Batu Khan, she'd been born of one of Ganba Khan's female conquests, so she only shared half her blood with the Horde's current leader. Still, the resemblance to her brother was strong in her coloring, with her deep golden brown skin and thick black hair. Like most women of the Horde she wore it loosely tied away from her face with a leather thong, with a stark, straight fringe cut across her forehead. At twenty-five years old, she was in the prime of her womanhood, with full breasts and wide hips that drew stares from the men of the Horde, but everyone knew better than to seek out the hand of the Khan's sister and most trusted advisor. The last man who tried had been left for dead near the edge of the Burning Desert, with his severed manhood hanging off the saddle of Batu Khan's horse.

But it wasn't for her beauty that Samira was held in such high esteem among her brother's councilors. Her mother had been a wise woman, able to read the stars and omens in nature to give warning to Ganba Khan in his time of need, eventually earning herself the position of his favorite concubine in the process. Samira had many of the same talents and was particularly knowledgable in the use of plants, both for their magical and healing properties, and despite her relatively young age had earned the rare feminine title of “Veda,” or “wise one” among the Horde. Of course, some people whispered that Batu Khan desired Samira Veda the same way Ganba Khan had desired her mother, but no one believed the young man was really capable of acting on it. Especially not when he had quite the harem of concubines of his own to keep himself busy.

Indeed, Batu Khan had intended to amuse himself with two or three favorites this very evening, forgetting the odd shape Samira had pointed out in his tea leaves in the morning. “An axe and an anchor, brother. Beware of crossing the wrong man,” she had said.

And now Nokhoi was running into his tent, ranting about...a wizard?

“Have you been at the airag again?” Batu Khan asked crossly as he climbed out from beneath a golden-haired slave girl and pulled on his robe. “What do you mean, a wizard?”

The answer came in the sound of an explosion outside, followed by men's shouts and screams of women. Cursing, Batu Khan grabbed his bow and quiver and went out to see what the trouble was, only to be met by the curious face of Samira Veda at the door of his tent, dressed in a loose fitting black gown and with a colorfully woven shawl draped around her shoulders.

“It would appear we have a visitor, My Khan,” she stated. With her large black eyes completely void of emotion, she inclined her head towards the sound of the commotion. “Shall we give him a proper greeting?”

Batu Khan only grunted and inclined his head towards one of his guards. “Get the horses, I fancy a hunt,” he growled, stalking over to the intruder with his sister in tow.

 

[Pazzo]

Imagine if you will, a gorgeous mountain valley style kingdom, situated between two craggy mountain ranges that thrust upwards into the air for several thousands of feet, with pearly white snow gracing their highest elevations. The only sound here is the wind passing down from the north, and the furious, cheerful flapping noises that it encouraged the long, colorful strings of prayer flags to make.

High up on one of the many plateaus, was a singular albino yak. Looking at her, one could tell that she was spoiled rotten, and not used as a beast of burden at all. No, this animal was obviously someone's well tended pet, what with her immaculately combed and brushed white fur, and carefully braided ribbon tied about her neck, from which a wide, rectangular bell swung back and forth. Her groomed tail was likewise tied with a singular red ribbon. She plodded her way carefully up the plateau , lazily grazing at the swaying grass as she did. Nearby she saw the one she was looking for, as it was that time of day when she was given and handful of delicious oats.


About one hundred feet away, was a haggard looking figure, with a crown of wild hair that stuck out in all directions, streaked with gray from his temples. His long beard was just as wild, with two white streaks flowing downwards, with the center being a satin black. His clothing consisted of a patchwork of black and blue fabric scraps, forming a makeshift robe that flapped in the breeze. He was not overly dirty or unkempt, he just liked to be comfortable. In his left hand he carried a large worn cloth sack, from which he would reach into on occasion, and withdraw a handfull of various grain.

In front of him was a massive flock of large, flightless birds that had absolutely no reason being here in this area, as they were unheard of for within several thousand miles. They looked similar to emu, only that the skin on their heads was a brilliant blue, with each one sporting a pair of large red wattles on their necks. Up high on their head, was a large, fan like outgrowth extending from their beaks. He had no idea what they were called. He had just bought several of their eggs from a traveling merchant. They had started hatching before he could get home to cook and eat them.... So he started a bird farm instead. Before long, he had a sizeable holding.

The man would walk up to each of the birds, offering it a handful of the grain, to which each one gobbled it up quickly with their menacing beaks, but careful enough not to hurt the skin of his hands. he then heard a loud moo behind him. Alastair just grunted. He turned around to face the well groomed yak who was inches away from him. "Yaks aren't supposed to be able to moo! You are not a damn cow! You are a Yak! YAKS ONLY GRUNT!" He screamed at her.

Buttercup only twitched her ears, seeming unconcerned. She extended her head, making sniffing sounds at the large sack in his hand. "...Yes yes, I understand." He said in a tone laced with annoyance. He brought forth a handful of the oats and barley, and held it out for her. Just as she was extending her head to eat from his hand, a thickly shafted arrow buried itself halfway into her skull, just behind her eye. Blood sprayed out and splattered over the wizard's horrified face as the grain fell from his hand. He whirled around quickly, to see another arrow ripping through the air, just inches away from him. Luckily, this one went through his robe, just under his right arm. He hissed as he felt the sharpened arrowhead nick his inner arm.

Alastair's face took on a look of pure hatred and rage as he saw a man about two hundred yards away, partially hidden behind his woodpile, next to his clay domed house. The man was dressed in a type of lamellar armor trimmed with furs. Holding a massive longbow, hurriedly trying to nock another of his arrows. He barely had time to breathe before the wizard was upon him. The would be assassin never saw Alistair run towards him, he was just suddenly there, gripping him by the neck, choking him, and lifting him up off the ground with a strength that belied his otherwise lean appearance. The wizard's face was red and purple, his eyes full of fire and malice, glaring daggers at the man.
"Who in the hell are you?" He said in a low tone. The bowman just gagged and struggled, futilely trying to loosen Alastair's grip on his windpipe. A moment later, a loud, sickening wet crunch could be heard, and the bowman went completely limp. Alastair flung the lifeless body into the ground in frustration once, tossing up gouts of earth in the process. He then lifted the man up uper his head, and slammed his body into the ground on the other side just as hard.



He screamed, and repeated this process over and over for several minutes, before his finally collapsed, sobbing. Alastair mourned the loss of his beloved Yak that thought she was a cow, with his emotions quickly shifting back to rage, as he glared down at the bent and broken body of the incompetent hitman sent to kill him, the bowman's arms and legs bent an impossible angles. Alastair then recognized the emblem on the man's armor. "Ghengis... What the hell is one of yours doing here? Oh hells no..." He roared out.

Alastair scurried into his clay house, and sounds emanated from within, things breaking and crashing as he moved frantically about, with several of his birds drawing nearer, their heads cocked to the side in curiosity.

The wizard appeared once more, with a wrapped bundle strapped to his back. With one arm, he grabbed the chest of the fallen warrior, lifting him up effortlessly, draping him over one shoulder. He then considered his options. The Kahn's territory was at least a good two thousand miles away, which was almost four times the width of Texas.

Wait a minute. Alastair arched one of his eyebrows, Texas? where in the hell was that? what in the hell was that? but then shook his head, dispelling the irrelevant tangent thought. Revenge was the immediate need.

A month by foot, several days by horse. He thought about shape shifting into a bird to fly, but he wouldn't be able to carry the dead man. He considered stuffing the corpse into an enchanted bag, but his bags always destroyed flesh and bone. Only metal and plant based products seemed to work. He grumbled. A quick transport demanded teleportation magic.

It was risky. He could easily teleport directly to the camp, but such a long distance would drain most of his magical energy reserves. Plus he might phase himself into the side of a mountain and die. As livid as he was, he was not rendered stupid. He would limit his teleports, ten miles each jump, he would then wait a minute for his power to recover, then jump again. Each jump only using 5 to 10% of his stored energy.



Over the course of the next several hours, Alastair teleport jumped only to areas that he could directly see. Before long, his gorgeous mountain valley changed to frigid ice and snow, and then to a vast steppe. Before long he was at the entrance to a huge nomadic encampment, with the same symbol emblazoned on it that had been on the man's armor. The man that he no longer had with him. Alastair swore. In his haste, he had forgotten that dead people could not be teleported.

He had materialized just behind a series of large tents, so no one had seen him. He did not however have stealth on his mind. He casually walked up to the main entrance, where two burly guards, easily a foot taller than the wizard, moved to stop his advance.


His face somewhat annoyed, Alastair spoke first. "I'm here to see Batu..." He grunted to the first warrior. "Go and fetch him. Now." He said, with a note of finality. The two guardsmen looked at each other incredulously , and started laughing. The wizard just closed his eyes, and canted his head to the side, desperately trying to control his rage.


An intensified stinging sensation struck the side of his head, as pinpricks of light flooded his vision. He then fell flat on his back into a puddle of something that smelled foul. Likely a place the warriors let their horses urinate. As his senses slowly came back to him. He could hear the two guards bellowing out in laughter. He just clenched his teeth. "Alright, Assholes. We can play that game..." He whispered to himself, as he looked up at the endless blue sky.

One of the guards advanced upon him as he attempted to sit up in the nasty, rank puddle. The wizard could hear him speak in a condescending manner. "And who do I tell the Kahn, that has decided to visit?"

The wizard just sat up, grinning like a maniac, with mud splattered upon his cheeks. Little flecks of buttercup's blood was still there as well. In a cheerful voice, he answered the guard.

"...you can call me Al." He said. He then snapped his fingers. a deafening explosion rang out just under the guard's feet, launching him up into the air, so that he fell onto one of the many yurts that was nearby, making its roof collapse. The wizard then leapt to his feet, slinging his arms downward, in a futile attempt to rid himself of the filth.

The remaining guard looked at Alistair in disbelief, as he held his weapon at the ready.

The wizard just walked towards him. "Go. Get . Batu." He repeated, as several more guards attempted to surround him.

The wizard's eyes never left the somewhat unsteady gaze of the guardsman, and he did not notice the Khan or his sister as the drew closer. The many pointed weapons that were leveled at him were far more interesting at the moment...

 

[Shiva the Cat]

The frantic yelling only increased as Batu Khan and Samira hurried towards its origin. Shouts of "Monster!" and "Demon!" from the fleeing servants and "Get the horses!" "Arm yourselves" from the warriors led the siblings to believe their camp was under attack by some terrible beast, perhaps a thunderbird or almas of legend. After a slave brought the Khan's horse to him, he easily swung onto its bare back and held out a hand to his sister, but she shook her head, preferring to spring alongside him until they reached the site of the intrusion.

It was at the southeastern rim of the camp, where many of those who tended to the herds had their tent. The area was guarded, but not as heavily as those tents where Batu Khan and his council residedd, and it was odd to suddenly see so many of the outriders--and even a few of the burlier herders--pointing their arrows and spears towards...a single man. True, there were some suspicious circumstances. He was standing before an enormous divot in the ground that everyone was quite sure had not been there earlier that afternoon, and several feet away one of the guards--Gerel, if Samira was remembering his name correctly--was screaming in agony from the middle of a collapsed yurt, with one of his femurs protruding jaggedly from his broken skin.

Letting out a shocked gasp, Samira immediately ran towards the wounded man, pulling the medicine bag she always wore around to the front of her chest in immediate needs of sedatives for the poor victim. Meanwhile, Batu Khan let out a roar of rage and kicked Salkhi in the sides, racing him almost directly over the stranger and only pulling back when he was a foot or so away from the bearded man.

"You...you did this?" he asked, he usually mild-mannered face twisted in an expression of rage. "You dare attack the Horde of Batu Khan?"

Turning towards the guards, he nodded towards them and at least a dozen men immediately fell upon the stranger, seizing him by any part they could get their hands on. Meanwhile, Batu Khan dismounted and took a spear from one of the nearby herdsmen, approaching the invader with the point leveled at his chest.

"You're a witch." There was no question in the Khan's voice, but he gestured with the spear towards the hole in the ground and the broken tent. "Did someone send you to attack us? The Oros? The Khagyar? Speak!" He thrust his spear towards the invader with just as much determination as he had ridden his horse towards him, but yet again, Batu Khan paused before striking the final blow.

Meanwhile, Samira had managed to drug poor Gerel into unconsciousness and dispatched a few of her servants to carry him to the tent reserved for the sick and injured. She was about to follow them until her dark eyes fell upon the man who, by all appearances, was about to become that latest victim of Batu Khan's wrath. The wise woman sniffed sharply, not feeling particularly sympathetic for one who had so brazenly attacked her people. But the more she looked at the man, the more a strange memory began to materialize in her mind.

She had been a young girl, not even ten years old yet. Her mother, the honored Sita Veda, had still been alive then, and was enjoying her position as the most prominent of Ganba Khan's concubines. She had been walking with her daughter just beyond the boundaries of the camp, teaching her about the various plants in the area and their uses, when the woman had directed Samira's attention to a strange sight: a man, walking alone away from the camp. Ganba Khan was not like Batu Khan; he did not set prisoners free (even then he had sent guards to follow Sita and Samira on their walks). But the man was not a prisoner, nor was he a member of the Horde. He was a stranger, and Sita Veda had looked upon him with wonder and fear as she pointed him out to her daughter.

"Do you see that man walking away?" the woman had asked her child. "That is the only man in this world that Ganba Khan fears, and rightly so. When Batu--or whoever succeeds Ganba Khan when he rides into the next world--is Khan, my daughter, you must not let him cross that man. I fear it will be the end of your line, and the end of our Horde entirely. Do not forget his face, Samira, or his name. He is called Alastair."

And she had not forgotten.

After assuring Gerel's wife she would be along to help the healers in time, Samira very carefully approached her brother and his prisoner. "My Khan," she began softly, bowing her head as she approached. "Will you allow this woman to ask a question of you?" In private, she usually addressed her brother in much less formal terms, but now they were surrounded by warriors, not to mention a stranger. She kept her tone as soft and submissive as possible, although beneath her fringe her eyes were sparkling with intelligence as she looked into the face of the prisoner.

Batu Khan glanced over his shoulder at Samira, and for a moment his stern mask slipped as he marveled at what his sister would have to say on the matter. Then his quickly resumed the fearsome mask of rage, but nonetheless said, "Speak, Samira Veda."

She bowed deeply. "My Khan, it is known there are those wiser than the wise, who work strange magic bestowed upon them by the gods. Do you recall when one such a person came to call upon the Great and Mighty Ganba Khan, May He Reign Forever In Heaven?"

The Khan paused, then squinted at the man. Samira took another step towards the prisoner, and looked him directly in the eyes. "You have called upon us before, have you not...Alastair? May we ask, why have you now called upon the Great and Mighty Batu Khan, May He Reign Forever In This World, and his Horde? What harm have we done you that you so cruelly wound our people?"

Although she was a short woman, her voice was strong and she held her head high, cutting a figure almost as impressive as the Khan behind her. It was no wonder he faltered ever so slightly when she looked back, not even bothering to bow this time, and asked, "My Khan, might we not speak with our guest under freer circumstances? The gods may work in mysterious ways, and they may curse our herds if we do not treat their chosen with respect."

"Hmph, little respect he showed for Batu Khan and his horde," Batu grunted, but nonetheless lowered his spear. "If you swear upon your life you will harm no more of my Horde, we will allow you to speak freely, and keep your sorry life. Do you swear it, or shall we kill you where you stand?"

Samira looked back towards the stranger, silently pleading with him to submit to the Khan.

 

[Pazzo]

Alastair did nothing to stop the several burly soldiers that grasped at him, he didn't even look to be overly concerned. "Oh please...Be gentle, it's my first time." He murmured in what could only be a sultry tone. If anything, the wizard appeared to be relaxed, even allowing his mouth to form a relaxed smile as his eyes fixed upon the young Khan. His eyes opened a little wider as his spear poked him in the chest, with his smile getting a little more pronounced, as Batu poked him in the chest with it.

He nodded with each word, his eye narrowing as the arrogant tone of the leader started to grate on his nerves. He sounded more than a little confused about his current predicament. Unbeknownst to the many guards surrounding him, six small carved brass spheres rolled out of his sleeves, three for each.

They were all small, only about an inch across each, as they casually rolled along the ground, between everyone's feet, easily overlooked as the rolled out to the periphery of this particular altercation.

"Hmm..." he said, as his eyes shifted down and to the right, considering Batu's words and commands. He likewise took notice of the highly attractive female that seemed intent on being involved, even winking at her, before turning his attention back to the source of his visit.

"Oh little Kahn, I have no intention of hurting anyone, unless of course they hurt or try to hurt me in some way. Your father knew that, all to well..." He murmured, low and deep. "...Mr broke-leg over there had just punched me in the face, and made me fall in a puddle of something nasty. " He said in an ominous tone.

He heard water being dumped on the ground nearby somewhere, with the sound of it fizzing and bubbling as it hit the dirt. He turned to look, and saw the it was a huge horse, urinating. He wrinkled his nose at it. "Ewww..." He grunted. Alastair shook his head, and turned his mud and blood splattered face back to Batu. "I came here to ask about why one of your bowmen was shooting arrows at me earlier today? The prick has aim for shit, and hit my prized white female Yak in the side of her face..." He said, his voice starting to break. His face then turned a little red, as the wizard's mad eyes narrowed menacingly. "There are lots of people here little Kahn, people that need not be involved. Have them leave now, and it will be they that can keep their lives...

Alastair's voice had no fear in it, but changed into a tone so low it could be felt in the pit of everyone's stomach. His eyes flashed, as he snapped the fingers on both hands. Six identical explosions of light erupted around the group in a perfect ring, as metallic clanging filled the air. Suddenly, they were all surrounded by six immense humanoid constructs, each easily twice the height of an average warrior, sheathed completely in heavy brass armor.

The ground rumbled as their steam engines fired up, with their shoulder mounted stacks spitting forth a thick black smoke. One of them had a menacing pair of circular saw blades instead of hands, their inner workings screaming as they came up to speed. Another one had what looked like an immense chainsaw for its left arm, with the right being dominated by a rotary barreled auto-cannon. A third had what looked like dual flamethrowers mounted on each arm, with liquid fire dripping from them.



The other three had regular, if they could be called that, three fingered hands that were all balled up into immense fists... The ground shook violently as the sextet of fearsome brass machines took great steps to all face the wizard, their various hands brought to bear on the Kahn.



The wizard just grinned madly, his head twitching a few times as he savored the look of intensified fear washing over everyone's faces. "I can keep my life you say?" He asked in a rhetorical manner. "...Oh little Batu. You've got it all wrong. My life ended, when you bastard father, born of a whore in an alley, may he scream as he is brutally fucked by great barbed penises in the hells for all eternity, had decided he wanted to rape my wife..." The wizard growled, as the sky itself seemed to darken, the air seeming to still. "...she never had a chance. Oh i'm certain it was all a mistake, and that he had no idea, but by then it was too late. She was dead on the floor of the house I had built for her..." He glowered at the Kahn.

"How did he die exactly? What was it? A heart attack?" He rumbled, as he reached out to Batu's chest with the force of his mind, creating a wall of force around it, commanding it to squeeze. "...Yes, that was it, he clutched at his chest I think, pleading for mercy... Just as you are about to start doing right now, unless you answer my question. Why Batu? Why did you send an assassin to my Bird farm is the southern part of Nasu?" He said, in a gentle tone that did nothing to hide the anger welling up all around him.

"Your blood already owes me a wife..." The wizard spat, exhaling with a great force, that made the guards all around him be pushed back several feet, breaking thier hold upon him. "...and now it seems, you owe me a prized yak... Speak! And if I like your answer, perhaps I will allow you to keep your sorry life, such as it is...." He murmured, outstretching his arms. "The only thing I will sear to Batu? I swear that if you are just as foolish as the bastard that wronged me before? I will make my best effort to slaughter this entire camp, and all within it, consequences be damned..."

His voice took on a demonic, evil quality from the last few syllables of that sentence, with the sky growing even darker. Alastair's eyes started to glow an ominous red, with the background noises of annoyed, tortured hydraulics and whirling blades begging to be unleashed...

 

[Shiva the Cat]

Samira's eyes widened in surprise at the small objects that rolled out of the prisoner's sleeves as if with a will of their own, moving farther than they had any right to if they'd been dropped by a natural hand. She quickly lost sight of them in the growing crowd though, and the stranger's calm voice seemed to command her attention in an almost hypnotic fashion. She wasn't shocked to hear that Gerel had started the altercation--he had always been something of a brute, which, to be fair, served the Horde well when it came to keeping out intruders. But to break a man's leg just because he made you fall in a horse-puddle...that was a bit extreme. Then again, judging by the way the stranger was admiring the nearby herd, it appeared he did not care much for horses in general.

Batu Khan was more concerned with his prisoner's accusations rather than the events that had led to his capture. "I haven't the slightest idea who you are, or where you came from. If you hadn't taken it upon yourself to invade our camp, I would say you aren't worth the waste of an arrow." Several of the men laughed at this remark and the Khan beamed proudly, but Samira Veda's face was dead serious.

"Did you say it was only one of our bowmen?" she asked the stranger, tilting her head slightly. "Not two, or three, or more?" The black eyes looked uncertainly back to Batu Khan, who had resumed his rather unimpressive frown as his sister continued the line of questioning. "Batu Khan would never send a single rider out to scout ahead," she explained to Alastair. "We send them out at least in pairs, larger parties if we can spare them. If a lone rider is killed, how would we know of his fate? It could not have been one of our archers that attacked."

"Of course it couldn't," Batu Khan sniffed. "He's obviously a liar, or a fool. So which is it, witch? If you acknowledge your mistake, I may let you crawl away from here with most of your vital organs. But if you insist on lying to the Great and Mighty Batu Khan..."

The invader didn't have to. He didn't even need to speak a word. Six metallic giants burst out of the ground like trees growing at lightning speed. Several of the horses reared in fright, including Salkhi, but Batu Khan managed to remain seated on his mount. The giants were armed with strange whirring and whirling blades that looked as though they could cut through a man as easily as knife through butter, and while they were content to let some of the women and herdsmen flee away, their emotionless faces were fixated on the Khan himself, who had drawn his bow and firing uselessly at the metal monsters.

At first Samira was transfixed at the sight of the beings, wondering if they lived, if they had been created by man or god. If they weren't attacking her kin, she might have even been content to watch them have their way with say, the savage tribes that had dared to attack so many of their vassals. But the spell was broken when one of the monstrosities lifted Batu Khan clear off his horse as though he weighed no more than a doll.

"Stop it! Don't hurt him!" the woman shrieked, tearing her gaze away from the monsters to the man who controlled them. In an unusual show of emotion for one usually so placid, she threw herself at the man and gripped desperately at the front of his patchy robe. He wasn't listening, raving instead about the wrongs the Great and Mighty Ganba Khan had wrought upon him, and relishing in the revenge he was about to take on his heir.

"Please..." Samira gasped, jerking hard on his clothing and forcing him to look at her. "Ganba Khan is dead, he will not harm you and yours any longer. I am sorry for your wife, and your beast, I truly am. If it pleases you, I will see to it myself that amends are made, but let the Khan go!" Tears began to prick at her eyes. "If it is true that one of our bowmen attacked your home, I will accept the punishment, as a Veda of the Horde. It is my duty to council the Khan, and if I have led him astray that is my responsibility, and I am willing to suffer for my failure."

She prayed such a rare display of her feelings would be enough to evoke Alastair's mercy, because it was clear the choked gasps and gurgles emitting from Batu Khan's horrifically twisted mouth were not. Still, when his eyes fell upon the form of his sister entwined with his attacker, fresh rage filled the Khan's face, and he struggled all the more against his supernatural bonds.

In one last effort, the woman dropped to her knees before the wizard, bowing her head submissively. "Release him, please," she begged softly, glancing up at him through her long lashes. "Please, I beg of you. He is not only my Khan, he is my brother. He is all the kin I have left in this world, do not take him from me."

 

[Pazzo]

Alastair fixed his eyes on the choking Kahn, feeling his anger and adrenaline surge through his veins, savoring the vengeance that was but a hair's breadth away, to crush his enemy, see him driven away, only to have that succulent feeling ripped away by the lamentation of a woman...

The wizard clenched his teeth angrily, as he felt the woman paw at his robes, pleading, begging him not to end the miserable life of her arrogant little sibling. He lowered his hand, but kept his glowering expression fixated on the coughing form before him.

"Perhaps an investigation into the details then, a closer look as it were..." He murmured angrily. Reaching down, he grasped the woman under her left armpit, and pulled her up to stand before him.

She was beautiful to be sure, but his mind was not on things that a man could be doing with a woman. He was more concerned about why the sanctity of his home had been violated. It might not have appeared to be true, but the wizard's keen ears had heard everything she had said, about how their scouts always travelled in small groups, rather than alone.

He turned his dark gaze back to the Kahn, and then to his brass warriors. "We will return shortly." He said in a flat tone. Alastair snapped his fingers, and almost immediately, the six brass behemoths disappeared into a dizzying array of sparkling golden dust. A moment later, the wizard and Sammi followed suit, but their dust appearing to be made of powdered sapphire instead.

In the space of two heartbeats, Alastair saw the landscape rip past him at an alarming rate, as the sped through and cut the air, many times faster than the swiftest horse.

A few seconds later, they were standing back at his homestead, with the broken and battered corpse of the supposed yak assassin laying face down, with his mangled limbs splayed out in all directions.

Alastair pointed down to the corpse with one single infuriated finger. "That." He said in a low tone. "That bastard right there. That is your family's emblem on his armor, is it not?" He spat at the woman, as the six clockwork guardians whirred away, waiting patiently.

He turned away from her and stormed off towards the corpse of his beloved buttercup, his angry, purposeful steps quickly devolving into clumsy, sad, weak footings with each yard that he closed. He angry rantings likewise diminished into pitiful sobs as he drew closer, desperately trying to brush away the swarm of ants that were threatening to devour her cheek.

The wizard fell to his knees, as he closed the lids to her milky eyes, time enough having passed for rigor mortis to set, and then pass. Her murmured an inaudible payer to some long forgotten deity, as he wavered his fingers in the air. The body of the yak then disappeared into a brilliant flash of blue fire, burning her to complete ash in only a few seconds. The ashes then flowed around in an elegant wisp, as they were coaxed into a small leather pouch the wizard held out. After Buttercups ashes were collected, he tied the pouch shut, and draped its long leather thong around his neck. "Worry not my friend, I will find you a beautiful place to be scattered." He whispered.

Not even a half a second later, the huge brass construct with the saw blade hands suddenly assumed a combat stance, with its visual receptors changing from their calm azure tint to an angry, blazing red.

The other five guardians followed suit, two of them facing the same direction, with the other three facing away, in the three opposite cardinal directions.

At first, Alistair did not notice, still deep within his sorrow regarding the dearly departed. The hiss of steam and whine of straining hydraulic pistons shook him from his reverie. The wizard first looked up to see his brass behemoths in their agitated state, and then looked off in the direction they were facing, squinting his eyes as the wind blew his unkempt hair about his face. Seeing nothing, he jerked his head back to his brass entourage, and angrily barked at them.

"What?!" He roared out. "There is nothing over there!" Just as another arrow sailed past his head, only an inch away from his nose. "Hmph..." He whispered to himself, as the golems started to mount a ground shaking charge in the opposite direction from which the arrow came "...This one has slightly better aim." He growled, as he turned to look in the direction they ran off in.

 

[Shiva the Cat]

Samira Veda had been selfless in asking Alastair not to take her brother from her. However, she had worded the request poorly, it seemed, considering how only moments later the wizard had taken her from Batu Khan.

At first, she was only aware of his arms gripping her with surprising strength, considering his unremarkable frame. She was about to cry out or struggle against him, but all around her she could feel a powerful wind swirling and see colors and shapes flashing before her eyes. It almost felt like flying, except there was no sense of weightlessness, and while the ground beneath her feet seemed to be rising and falling every second, it was still definitely there. For a moment, Samira gripped at her apparent abductor tightly, as though she were afraid he might drop her or let her be cut to pieces by the sharp winds around them, but as soon as the storm had risen it was suddenly gone, and she was standing still on a landscape that was wholly unfamiliar to her.

Samira took a shaky step forward, wondering if what she saw was real or if the witch-man had cast a spell upon her. All evidence of the camp was gone. No tents, no horses, no Batu Khan. She was utterly alone with the man beside her.

"What...what magic is this? How did you do that?" the woman gasped, whirling around to face him again. Among the Horde she had often been accused of working magic herself, but the wisest among them knew that she was simply unlocking the natural potential of the plants that grew in their lands, an ancient school of learning that Sita Veda had known from old. Samira Veda knew how to heal sicknesses and ease pain, how to make poisons that could weaken or kill a foe, even how to prevent a child or get someone in the mood for making one. But she didn't know a single plant that could do what Alastair had just done, and her eyes were wide with shock and awe as she stared at him.

Unfortunately, it did not seem as though the wizard was interested in explaining his methods to her. Instead, he was furiously pointing at two corpses: one a yak, and one a man who, by all appearances, did belong to the Horde. The longbow that had fallen uselessly to his side was very similar to the one Batu Khan often used himself, and both the man's tunic and shield were emblazoned with an arrow piercing the sun; the same emblem that had been adopted by the Great and Mighty Ganba Khan, and was still used by his son and surviving followers. But the man's face was utterly unfamiliar to Samira Veda, and while she certainly didn't know all members of the Horde by name, she did know the faces of all who acted under her brother's direct orders.

"I don't know him," she said finally, rising to her feet as she looked back at Alastair. "That is the clothing and weapon of the Horde, but this man could not have been acting under the orders of Batu Khan. Its possible he may have stolen them from one of our dead, or he was once a follower of Ganba Khan who severed ties with my brother after his death. But if this man truly did slaughter your beast, it was not by any order of the current Khan, I can assure you of that."

The idea didn't seem to comfort him much, as he stalked off to grieve the yak. For a moment, Samira only stared dumbfoundedly after him, wondering how one could form such an attachment to a beast of burden. Then she recalled the isolation of their current spot, and realized there could not be another person for miles. Was it any wonder then, that a man like Alastair might come to rely wholly on nonhuman companionship, especially considering the loss of his wife? Her heart clenched a little in sympathy as she watched him grieve the poor creature, but it did not seem right to interfere with him at the moment. Instead, she turned her attention to the strange metal creatures that had accompanied them back from the Horde.

They had been moving warily around the perimeter of the area, which she supposed had been grazing land for Alastair's yak prior to her unfortunate demise, but while he was busy burning the creature's body, the monsters suddenly grew louder and seemed to take more defensive postures as they turned towards something off in the distance. Glancing over her shoulder, Samira could see Alastair was most displeased by the interruption of the funeral, and he was even more displeased when an arrow appeared from seemingly nowhere headed straight for his head.

"Alastair Bagsh!" the woman gasped, darting towards him while keeping as low to the ground as she could. When she reached his side, she grabbed at his arm and jerked him downward. "You should stay down, we don't know how many there are," she whispered, seeming to forget for a moment the magic he had unleashed on her less than a half our earlier. Glancing in the direction of the behemoths, she bit her lip nervously. "Will they kill whoever is shooting at you, or capture them? If they're in league with that one--" Samira jerked her head towards the dead man a few yards off. "--I would prefer to ask them some questions about where they obtained Horde garments."

 

[Pazzo]

Alistair grunted as the exotic beauty had bowled him over, knocking him to the ground into the high grass. Initially, his broken mind was filled with anger, but as he listened to her words, full of genuine concern for his safety? Doubt began to creep into his mind, gnawing away at the bloodlust the untimely death of Buttercup had brought.

It was now a possibility that this was all one big lie, a ploy to get him to be angry, and to attack the clan directly, perhaps to weaken them. The wizard didn't not even hear the massive brass foot that slammed into the ground only a foot away from his head, as the construct advanced upon their unknown assailants. Would the golems kill the assailants he wondered?

Laying in the grass with her pressed against him, he allowed his mind to wander, as the sound of windblown grass filled his ears, only to be marred by the cacophony of straining hydraulics, as they drove his brass monsters forwards. He could also hear shouting off in the distance. Alastair frowned. The golems were powerful to be sure, a relic from a bygone era and a lost civilization from hundreds of years ago. Alastair had found them hidden away in a cave, most of them rusted and derelict. Out of the hidden weapons cache, there were 200 of the beasts, and he had only been able to get six of them working. The others might be serviceable but...

He then felt her breasts press into his chest, momentarily derailing his train of thought. He brushed aside the feeling of anger, and once again tried to think. Golems. Bad Guys. Okay... The golems were strong, but incredibly slow, only able to walk with a lumbering gait, about half the speed of a normal man. They were likewise armed only with short range weaponry. If the assailants were smart, they would simply stay away from them as they advanced. The one that had an autocannon on its arm had long since exhausted its supply of munitions, and the wizard not having the knowledge to make it any more. As a stop gap measure, he had stuffed magic wands into the weapons barrels, with spectacular results. The only downside was that they were grossly inaccurate.

"No.. I don't think they will, simply because they won't be able to catch them. They were made for assaulting a big stone castle, not going after infantry..." He murmured to himself.

He then felt the warmth of her body against his, he breasts pressing into him, as well as her exotic scent. The wizard clenched his teeth, and bit his lower lip in arousal. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rolled over twice, taking the lovely woman with him, just in time to see several arrow shafts sticking into the ground, where they had just been laying before.
"You're very lucky I'm such a gentleman..." He murmured. "...otherwise I might try to take advantage of this situation, erotically, as it were." He frowned, he was certain he had heard that somewhere before. Then he remembered. It was a snippet of an ancient film made for entertainment, where a group of young teenagers had boxed machines used for something called "Hacking"... If only he could find the rest of the story... "Stay here. Don't move!" He said to the woman in a low tone. He waggled his fingers in the air, and disappeared.

He reappeared up high in his favorite pine tree, which he knew was right behind the unknown assailants. He knelt down on a thick, gnarled bough, and surveyed the battlefield.


He counted three, no, four hostile types in the area just in front of his adobe style house. One of them was crouched behind his pile of firewood, with the other three behind a waist high stone wall that he had made to keep his birds out of his yard. His golems were further down the hill, about two hundred paces away. A plot formed in his mind, which had him grinning ear to ear. He suddenly appeared on his roof, with his arms outspread, with a mock smile upon his face.

"Hello gentlemen..." He murmured in a tone suggesting he was welcoming some much expected visitors. "...welcome to my home. You must be tired, please, rest now." He murmured kindly, but with the last syllable of the last word of his sentence taking a more savage tone. He clapped his hands together at the startled khanish looking warriors, as they tried to hastily ready another set of arrows.

Green sparks erupted from Alastairs hands, and shot through the air to strike the mongol warriors diretly in their eyes. The men staggered, gasping, but then fell over each other, and started to snore peacefully. The wizard then leapt down from the roof to land neatly on the cobblestone walkway to his front door. He then stood to his full height, about to savor the success of his totally brilliant plan. His smile quickly faded however, as he heards familiar metallic wine cut through the air. Alastair's face took on a look a sheer horror. "Wait! Frank no!" He yelled out, as the wine got increasingly louder. The wizard frantically dove behind the woodpile, a thick bolts of lightning strafed the front of the house, filling the area with several deafening booms.

His woodpile, having been carefully stacked by hand in preparation for a bitterly cold winter, was now scattered throughout his yard, bearing many scorch marks. A blackened, very angry looking wizard with smoking hair stood up, and stared daggers at the one golem with the autocannon arms, still advancing upon him. "Stand down!" He roared at the golems, which immediately stood straight up, lowering thier arms into more relaxed positions. It did no good to scream and curse at mindless machines, but Alistair did so anyway, berating them for their indiscriminate aiming. "...I should turn all of you into pots and pans!" He bellowed, and he stumbled down into the field, brushing the grass aside with his blackened arms, looking for the Kahn's beautiful sister. "Don't get me wrong..." He called out into the field. "...I love a good game of hide and go seek, but the bad guys are down. You can ask them your questions when the wake up. Help me tie them up... Yeah, tie them up tight!" He said, giving that last word just a little more enthusiasm than the rest.

 

[Shiva the Cat]

Samira blushed deeply as she felt Alistair's arms wrapping around her waist, reminding her of the impropriety of their current situation. If Batu Khan had witnessed such a scene, not even she would have been able to persuade him to leave the wizard's head on his shoulders. Considering they were alone except for a few dead bodies and the machines, in truth the advisor didn't mind the feeling very much. The Khan's sister had experienced very few opportunities to be embraced in her short life, and if it were up to Batu she would leave this world a virgin still dispensing her wisdom on her tiny little deathbed.

But even she knew the dangers of allowing a stranger to get her in such a compromising position. So she quickly wriggled out of his grasp, grateful he seemed willing to let her go. With arms like that, who knew how tightly he could choose to hold someone who might have wanted to escape? "Forgive my clumsiness," Samira muttered halfheartedly as she began to sit up, then thought better of it when she saw the arrows sticking out of the ground where she was laying with her captor only moments before. Foolish girl she cursed herself. How could you have missed such a thing? Perhaps Batu Khan was right to keep her away from men if it made her a damned idiot.

She opened her mouth to ask Alistair what he planned to do if they were as outnumbered as they appeared, but once again he had vanished before her eyes, leaving her alone in the grass. Scrambling forward, she pulled one of the arrows from the ground and clutched it in both hands. As she ran her fingers down the shaft, Samira had to admit that it did look very much like one the Horde would use. But the fletching...high soldiers of the Horde always used blue-black Ghiri-bird feathers, while the lower ranks used brown raceth ones. The feathers on this particular arrow were black as well, but they weren't from a Ghiri-bird. Indeed, the Veda couldn't tell what kind of a creature they had come from, but it was certainly nothing that had ever flown over the skies of Horde territory.

Gripping the arrow as both weapon and evidence, the woman began to crawl in the direction of Alistair's shouting voice and the thunderous whirrings of the strange machines. Shortly after, some flashes of light and a powerful smell of smoke directed her towards the house, where a somehow even more miffed Alistair was giving his monstrosities a tongue-lashing worthy of the oldest, squattest Khanma of the Horde. Samira wasn't completely assured that the danger was over, but all the same she slowly rose to her feet, ready to jam the arrow into the nearest eyeball that might come within stabbing range.

"Who are they?" she asked, stepping out of the grass into the battlefield that had probably once been a front yard of a very unusual looking structure. In addition to the towering metal giants, her eyes fell on a handful of men in vaguely Horde-ish clothing who, against all odds, seem to be sleeping peacefully on the ground, still gripping their bows and arrows. These too closely resembled the weapons of her people, but the arrows were still fletched with the strange black feathers, and while the bows themselves might have been identical, the strings, which should have been clearly made of horse or ox gut, were made of a strange blue almost metallic filament.

After confiscating all the weapons and gathering them in a pile near the door of the building, Samira turned back to Alistair and raised an eyebrow at his bizarre zealousness at tying up the invaders. "You do have rope, I assume?" she asked, glancing skeptically from the man to what she assumed was his abode.

 

[Pazzo]

Delicate wisps of white smoke curled and rose from his singed hair and beard, as he mopped the oily soot from his blackened face. He spat one final time in the direction of the runbling golem, outfitted for long range attacks, and then turned to the gorgeous young female, grinning in a sadistic manner.

"Rope you say?" He chortled, laughing maniacally as he held his arms up high, making fists, then alternating pulling the downwards as if he was ringing an invisible series of church bells high overhead. Between himself and Samira, various makes and models of rope seemed to just fall from the sky, coiling cleanly before her feet. After what seemed like an eternity, many various neatly coiled bites of rope were neatly stacked on the ground, according to materials used, thickness, and strengths. Several of which appeared to be highly exotic. One of them even appearing to be made of many strands of woven, threaded steel.

"As you can see...." The wizard began in a voice that one might use to address a class being taught at a prestigious university "...We have the standard hemp rope here, made from woven dried and oiled plant fibers." He picked up a fat bundle of neatly coiled, thick brown rope, showing it to her. " Common, cheap, strong for tying people up, but with the added benefit of being itchy and annoying if used to bind people. " Alastair then looked at the bundle, then at the sleeping men. He tossed it over his shoulder, discarding it in an unceremonious manner. "No, too easy..."

The wizard, grumbling, then walked over to what looked like a fresh batch of long braided rose vines, tipped with cruel looking thorns that could easily pierce and tear into ones flesh, but only making shallow wounds that would hurt, but not be life threatening. "This...." He said in a voice low and deep, with a hint of sadistic glee. "...This is more fitting to be used to bind these bastards who so carelessly thought to be a pain in my ass." He cackled, but then shot a look of concern to Samira's delicate, beautiful hands. "Damn..." He muttered in annoyance. "...No, this wont work either..." He muttered, as he walked through the small labyrinth of stacked and organized rope coils, tossing the aside, seeming to look for something specific.

"Aha!" He said triumphantly, hoisting what looked like a shimmering length of finely woven silver, glimmering brilliantly in the sunlight. "Woven silk, ten thousand thread count, made of the finest silk harvested from hand raised worms for the far east...." He wispered to her. "...Perfect for lashing an unruly female to the bed, making her helpless, just before having ones way with her body..." He said in an uncharacteristically seductive tone, as he eyes Samira hungrilly. He took a few determined steps towards her, with a ravenous look upon his face, only to stop mid stride. He cast an annoying look at the snoring men, and then looked back to Samira.

Alastair looked at the beautiful rope in his hands, and tossed it over his shoulder. "For later perhaps, if you are lucky..." He grumbled. The wizard then spread his arms at his impressive collection of rope, and then gestured to the lovely woman. "Take your pick Sammy..." He murmured informally. "...Just don't make them too comfortable."

 

[Shiva the Cat]

At first glance, Samira thought Alastair had summoned snakes from the sky, eliciting a piercing shriek of unadulterated terror from her lips. She was so frightened she stumbled backward and fell ungraciously in the dirt, continuing to scramble away from the coiled thing at her feet. It was only when she heard the wizard speak again when she realized that the strange red thing beside her was not in fact a serpentine corpse, but one of the many strange varieties of rope he had conjured, albeit like none she'd ever scene. Still unsure of the item, the young woman poked the nearest length with one finger and pulled it back quickly, as thought it might rear up and bite her.

Growing up in the Horde, most fears were quickly overcome by anyone who did not wish to die a coward's death at the hand of the Khan's executioners. But most members of the Horde were still mortally frightened of the large number of poisonous snakes that inhabited their territory, and Samira more than most. She knew intrinsically what the different venoms could do, and had occasionally been prescribed with administering some particularly painful specimens to those that had offended her brother. Her eyes had witnessed firsthand the agony such a little thing as ruby viper could cause, and she could think of fewer worse ways to accidentally die on the plains.

By the time Samira's heart had slowed to its normal pace, she was dimly aware of Alastair's careful accounting of the ropes. "Where did these all come from?" she asked, gathering the red one that had particularly scared her and coiling it on her arm. It seemed to shine slightly under the late afternoon sun, and felt a bit like melted wax, but much sturdier. "And why so many? It seems to me you have enough rope to tie up an army, let alone four unconscious men." She glanced back towards the sleepers, still blissfully unaware of the bizarre events unfolding around them. It was a mistake though, to turn her back on the wizard. Before she knew what was happening he was behind her--or at least, it seemed like he was--and she could hear him whispering in her ear.

A deep shiver ran through her body, tugging at some primal need inside her that had only been piqued once or twice before (and the men who'd done it were no longer dwelling in this world). Samira knew that some men liked to have their women bound before them; Ganba Khan himself had often treated his slaves as such, though to her knowledge her own mother had been spared such humiliations. Batu Khan's tastes were more subdued, preferring to be pampered and spoiled by his women rather than roughly taking them like a savage. Samira herself had once accidentally intruded on such an encounter, and if she were being honest, it was rather, well...disappointing.

Perhaps it was fine for a herdsman to take his wife like that, or a man of the foreign merchant tribes, but it was her opinion that a Khan should take what was his. Otherwise how could he be called a Khan? Even if he did horrible things, like what he'd done to Alastair's wife, at least that would make others fear and respect him. Of course, Samira herself had no such desire to be taken by a Khan, and was grateful the Gods frowned upon brothers and sisters bedding one another, which was probably what had protected her from Batu Khan's gaze thus far. At the same time though, she also had no desire to give herself to any man who did nothing but lay on his back and wait for his woman to pleasure him all on her own.

And how would this mad wizard take a woman? she wondered, the question bringing fresh color to her cheeks. What did it matter to her? Besides, there were more important things to address at the moment. The strangers still needed to be secured, and there was no telling how long Alastair's magic would hold out. After selecting a few more coils of rope similar to the one she'd already gathered, she swiftly began to bind the men's hands and feet behind them, rolling them near one another but not so close they would be able to help each other escape.

As she finished the task, she rose to her feet and looked back towards Alastair. "How long will they sleep? It seems to be getting late..." Samira glanced towards what she assumed was the west, given the position of the sun. Evening was approaching, and she could only imagine what might be happening back at the Horde camp, wherever that might be. After hesitating a moment, she looked back directly into the wizard's face, trying to look as fearless as possible. "How long do you intend to keep me from my people?"

 

[Pazzo]

Alastair suddenly looked clean, and well groomed, for some unexplained reason. All evidence of him being nearly blasted to bits by twin black powder lightning guns completely gone.
He pursed his lips as he considered the beautiful woman's array of questions. He placed his second favorite ceramic pipe between his lips, and sparked his fingers with his magic. Placing his smoldering fingertips into the bowl of his pipe, he set the fresh tobacco to smoking immediately.

The wizard drew upon his pipe, lost in thought, as he thought about his sleep magic. He exhaled, with soft white smoke rising to form a ring over his head, almost looking like the halo of an angel. " They wont wake for a few hours I suppose..." He grumbled in annoyance. "... but I can release the spell whenever I like."

Al then smoked some more, as he considered her next question. The smoke this time framed his head in two lurid, horn like projections on either side of his head. "...I'm not keeping you from anyone." He said acidly. "...you are free to go whenever you like. The horde is about a weeks journey in that direction..." He said, scowling at the girl, as he pointed his pipe off in the direction of distant, snow capped mountains to the north.

Not waiting for a reply her turned back to consider the now tied up sleeping men. Her ropework was passable at best. her knots would hold, but they were not particularly pleasing to look upon. Perhaps he would train her how a little better later on.

The wizard snatched up a length of still smoldering wood from the ground, and waved his hand in the air, releasing his sleep magic's effect on the men. He then went up to the nearest one, and prodded him in his stomach with his stick. "Hey..." The wizard said, in a fairly polite tone. "...Wakey wakey. I got a bone to pick with you..." He finished. The sleeping man just grumbled under his breath, and rolled over. He then continued snoring. Alastair's face took on a look of pure agitation, as he cast an angry glare at Smira. He quickly stood, and walked towards his house, with purposeful pissed off strides of his muscular legs.

The wizard dissappeared into it. Soon after, things being tossed around, with pieces of pottery smashing could be heard. The wizard then appeared again, holding a massive round bottomed metal wok in one hand, with a heavy wooden spoon in the other. His face wearing a look of pure fury, he slammed the concave surface of the wok onto the head of the nearest slumbering idiot. He then proceeded to bang upon the outside of the pan with the metal spoon, causing an utter debilitating gonging and clanging noise. Screams soon erupted from under the wok, prompting the Wizard to pull the pain from his screaming face.

"I said wake up..." Alastair snapped down at the man. The captured soldier looked up in disbelief, and then down to his hands, as he fought with the knots, twisting his forearms this way and that. "Un-tie me at once!" He said in a commanding, and arrogant tone. "So help me I will cut off your inferior manhood, make you a slave, and then fuck your whore senseless as you watch!!!" He roared, sending spittle up into the air.

Alastair just went wide eyed, as he mouthed the syllables "Oh-kay" silently. He walked towards Samira in a slow way, kicking his feet up high, almost skipping towards her as his hands were tucked behind his back, his eyes on the ground. He then brought his hands to the front of him, offering the woman a rather menacing and rusty looking set of pliers, followed by a blade that looked like what would happen if a jagged toothed saw and a rending scythe had a child together.

He then leaned in close, his lips a hairs breadth from her ear, and whispered so only she could hear him. "Hold these..." He said quietly "...just look scary, and play along." He then spun around, and waved his hands into the air. Thick, gnarled roots slowly uplifted themselves from the soil, coiling around the limbs and trunks of the already tied up and bound men. A little redundant perhaps, but now they were all held up about waist high. They struggled and fought, as roots snaked their way into their mouths, forming a type of very effective gag.

"...So, its well documented that some species of primates show off and display their genitals to each other to establish dominance....' He muttered to the men, lecturing them. "...and then the primate with the best display wins. So then, since you called me inferior, lets have a look." He swatted his hand in the air, making a tearing movement with his fingernails. The vines ripped open the pants of the men, exposing their crotches bare to the sunlight, for everyone to see. There were all average, or underwhelming. regardless, all of the men whimpered a little.
The wizard then stood in front of the men, with his back turned to Samira. He opened his robe, but at an angle where Samira could not see him. The men looked, and a few gasped. Alastair then closed his robe quickly. "As you can see gentlemen, I win." He said with a note of finality.

"This whore behind me?" He started to say of Samira. "She has had me in every single one of her holes, and has the absolute best technique she does with her mouth and tongue, where she bends you over, wraps her impossibly long tongue around your balls, and licks as she drains you completely dry with her highly skilled hands..." He murmured to the men. "...And she absolutely hates that I make her do it. She absolutely hates men, without question." The wizard continued, in a tone of voice that might befit one addressing a contest of sorts. "...I suddenly think I have need for four armless, legless, tongueless, eyeless, and most importantly, dickless slaves roiling around my fields for no other reason than I think it might be entertaining. I don't know, I haven't decided yet."

The wizard continued, his hand resting on his chin, as he thought about the situation. "Or perhaps you idiots might decide to grow a brain, and give me some answers." He continued, this time his voice going darker, more malicious. "...I want names of whoever put you up to this. You do that for me, and maybe Ill just let her cut off a few toes, maybe a finger, or an ear." Alistair said, with the most evil grin spread across his face.

The wizard walked across the men, watching their faces carefully, as their exposed cocks all seemed to experience a most severe form of shrinkage at the prospect of being lost forever.
One of the men seemed more fearful than most, and so Alistair ignored the rest, and focused upon him. "You have something you want to tell me?" The wizard asked of the man, as the vines in his mouth drew back, allowing him to breathe somewhat. Alastair then looked to Samira, grinning, and winked at her where the men couldn't see.

 

[Shiva the Cat]

Samira could have sworn she'd only looked away from her host (or was he her captor?) for only a few seconds. Yet in that short time he seemed to have groomed himself thoroughly, not only clearing the grime and dust from his face, but somehow trimming his beard, changing his clothing, and pulling a strange-looking pipe from somewhere. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised, wizard as he was, but if he intended to torture any answers out of his victims it seemed a bit of a waste. Doubting he would appreciate this advice, however, she chose to keep it to herself.

Still, she couldn't keep a note of irony out of her voice at the idea of walking back to her camp. "I hope you will not think me lazy, Wizard Alastair," the woman began, crossing her arms over her chest. "But it would seem unwise for a lone woman, unarmed and without a horse or rations, to attempt such a journey. Suppose I should be caught in bad weather? Or captured by a magician who may not have my best interests at heart? I imagine such a fate would be rather unpleasant. Perhaps in your infinite mercy you may decide to return me at your own convenience?"

Clearly it was not convenient at the moment, however. Alastair seemed to pay no mind to her suggestions, and instead seemed quite intent on rousing his other captives. As she watched, Samira had to acknowledge he was treating her as a visiting princess by comparison, and although she was no stranger to witnessing scenes of violence, she was still tempted to advise him to be a bit gentler with the attackers. After all, if the men were completely brain damaged, they could hardly say who they worked for. Luckily, the wizard seemed to realize this before long, although the woman could hardly approve of his newer tactics.

Fear tactics she could understand; they were after all Batu Khan's favorite. But it was ridiculous to ask her to appear scary, with her short stature, generous curves, and default serene expression. The best Samira could manage was a look of vague displeasure, which did at least manage to become more genuine the more Alastair spoke. What in the world was he saying? She'd only just met the man, she would never commit the acts he described with a stranger, like a common slavegirl. She was a Veda! Those who desired her came to beg on their hands and knees if they did not wish to meet with the wrath of the Khan. To do otherwise was surely to give up their lives.

Well, assuming the Khan was aware of the situation. There may have been one or two clever outriders...but no, there was no sense in remembering those men. Besides, Samira had ensured they came to her respectfully and left with silent gratitude. They would never speak of the matter again, unless all of them wished to face the executioner's blade. And surely even with their closest confidantes, they would never speak of the trysts in the brazen manner Alastair was describing an entirely fictitious encounter.

Still, if the wizard had desired to bring out Samira's rage, he'd certainly done so. She still had the presence of mind not to contradict him, but her black eyes were flashing towards him in pure fury, and her small, soft hands were balled up into shaking fists. Samira was so focused on Alastair she hardly noticed the other mens' nakedness, and when she did by chance glance towards them it was in a clinical, unimpressed manner. But the gaze was more than enough to add to the mens' fright, particularly the one on the end who was attempting (and failing miserably) to curl himself into a ball. Alastair no doubt knew how to pick his victims appropriately, and was approaching him like a lion closing in for the kill.

At first the man could only gasp helplessly once the root had withdrawn from his mouth. Then, turning red under the gaze of both the wizard and the woman, he contorted slightly in his bonds, trying to hide his shame from them. Finally, a few short, gurgling syllables dripped over his lips, scarcely louder than a whisper. "Ka...li...ka...ka...li...ka..."

"Kalika?" Samira repeated with a frown. The name was not unfamiliar to her, but she was struggling to recall when she'd heard it. For some reason, it brought back memories of sitting with her mother by the fireside, being frightened of a story from Sita Veda's forested homeland in the far south.

"The witch...the blue witch..." the captive repeated, but the next thing to escape his lips was a shriek of pain. Before long, the other captives were screaming as well behind their gags, and after a moment all fell completely still, except for the man who spoke. He disappeared entirely, leaving nothing more than a puff of smoke and the signs of struggle in the dirt where he had lain. Even the strange ropes that had bound him fell empty on the ground.

Forgetting she was supposed to be intimidating, the woman immediately darted forward and laid her hand on the nearest bound man's neck, praying Alastair had resumed his sleep spell. But there was no pulse at all, nor were there any in his compatriots. All were stone dead.

"Did you do this?" Samira asked, not accusing exactly but certainly confused as she looked towards the wizard. Judging by his expression, she assumed he had not. Did the men have a master then--or a mistress--who had recalled them before they could reveal anything else? "Kalika...the blue witch..." she murmured again, trying to remember what her mother had said. "Does it mean anything to you, Alastair? An enemy, perhaps?" But why send minions impersonating the Horde? As far as she could remember, Alastair was the first magician who had dared set himself up as enemy either to Ganba Khan or Batu Khan.

"I need to think," the woman sighed. "If you will not return me to my people, may I trouble you for a cup of tea? Or anything else that might help me concentrate."

 

[Pazzo]

Alastair's otherwise handsome face was suddenly mired by perhaps the second ugliest scowl known to this side of reality. He turned his head, and spat upon the ground, grumbling under his breath.

"Oh yeah, it means something..." he growled, kicking a stray rock towards the primitive fence wall it had been a part of, only for it to glance off of its former comrades to hit the wizard in the shin. He swore, made a face, and stamped the throbbing leg around in a circle. A few moments later, he turned to face samira, poking his fingers together, as if he was fumbling around with which word to give her in reply.

"So um, this Kalika and I, we uh..." he ran one of his hands through his hair, looked to his house, then to each of his golems helplessly, then back to Samira. "...we have some history. The kind that involved her coming to visit, and then demand I satisfy whatever appetites she was distracted by." He geumbled.

"It was a good deal, my own needs were adressed, and she didnt bug me all that much." He continued, pressing his fingers together as he thought of what to say next. "Then she got really weird, asking for things that were just, off by about this much." He said, spreading his hands out, seeming to almost stretch to twice thier length.

"So, not wanting to reject her outright...." he started, only to have his triade interrupted by a soft, seductive, feminine voice that was like oiled silk. "...He decided to hide in his stupid house, behind his stupid door, and tried his best to be quiet, the next three times I came looking for him." It purred.

Alistair whirled around to see a gorgeous, voluptuous woman lounging in a ridiculously alluring pose, perched upon the left shoulder, with her large breasts only covered by a thin gauzy wrapping that could have fallen away at any moment, and her loins covered by a scrap of fabric to match. Her arms were clad in long, tight black leather gloves, with her thigh high leather booted legs dangling and swaying. Her face hidden by the wide brim of her midnight blue witchy hat.

"Hello Alastair..." she murmured to the general direction to where the wizard had been only a moment before. Her head rose slowly to reveal her lovely eyes, only to see them narrow as she realized he had dissappeared.

She swore under her breath, and winked out of existence as a crudely woven net fell upon the shoulder of the gloem, with Al on top of it narrowly missing her.

Sweet, sultry, and downright infuriating laughter filled the area, as the wizard roared in anger, looking around frantically, only to notice the golem he had been standing on was no longer there. He had just enough time to mutter a quick swear word, and flap his arms fruitlessly as he careened inti the ground below.

Thick wisps of sweet smelling blue mist wafted up from the ground where the iron giany had stood.

Alastair quickly stood up, tossing dead grass away from him as he spun this way and that, looking for the blue witch.

He then stopped moving, as his face tightened. The wizard put a hand to his head. He then looked in the direction of where the horde was camped.

"Oh no..." he grumbled, as he grasped Samira's hand tightly. "We need to go. Now...." he said in a worrisome tone. "Go now, drink tea later."

He closed his eyes, and imagined a pathway back to the camp, burning the last of his magic to get them there that much faster.

In the blink og an eye, there were back where they had left off, only that the one golem was now rampaging through Batus camp, ripping tents to shreds, and splintering beams into kindling...

"Damn..." the wizard said, low and deep.

 

[Shiva the Cat]

Samira had never seen a woman dressed like the one that materialized seemingly out of thin air on the shoulder of the metal giant. The wrap the woman wore was reminiscent of what the slaves of the Khan wore, but it was clear from the stranger's posture and manner of speaking she was no slave. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was startling to see how quickly Alastair fled before the woman in the blue hat, even though he'd only minutes before faced down four strange attackers without so much as a blink, and he'd downright laughed off an entire Horde ready to kill him. What was this woman that he would vanish in terror?

When she realized her target had disappeared, the woman turned with a mild curiosity towards Samira. Reflexively the Hordeswoman took a step back, but there was no threat in the stranger's eyes, just a confused surprise. Samira wasn't sure if the woman spoke the word aloud or if she just heard it in her head, but all the same it rang out clearly, accompanied by a strange tingle that seemed to move up the inside of her body, from the bottoms of her feet all the way to the top of her skull.

Sita?

Before Samira could respond, the woman had disappeared again, replaced by a very-frustrated looking Alastair, who apparently hadn't fled at all but merely attempted to get the drop on Kalika. It was a good effort, but apparently not enough, and in the blink of an eye he and Samira were alone again.

"That woman..." the veda began, wanting to tell him about the voice she had heard in her mind and the strange sensations that had accompanied it. The wizard was still panicking though, almost worse than he had while the witch was present. Samira only stared back bewildered; with the golem gone, weren't they out of danger? She never got a chance to ask that question aloud either though. All that managed to pass her lips was another surprised gasp as she felt Alastair grabbing for her, then the same sensation of wind and motion that she had felt on the way to his abode.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?" Samira gasped when finally the movement came to a stop. Breaking free of his grasp, her dark eyes stared accusingly into his. "Have you not kidnapped me enough times for one day?"

But he hadn't kidnapped her at all. It only took the familiar scent of grass and horses, and the sight of colorful tents around her for Samira to realize she was home. The return was far from peaceful though. All around her she could hear screaming, and perhaps fifty yards off she could see Alastair's golem marching through the tents as though they were no more than anthills, crushing everything beneath its enormous metal feet.

"No!" the woman shrieked, tearing after the monstrosity without another thought for Alastair or Kalika, wherever she might be. The herdsfolk of the Horde, along with many of the women and children, were fleeing out of the creature's path and into the safety of the high grass beyond the camp, but many of the outriders had circled the giant and were attempting to take it down with their arrows and spears. These of course bounced off harmlessly, but the creature still retaliated all the same, picking up the nearest horse and rider in its metal hands and hurling it off over the plain.

Samira stopped when she was dead behind the machine and looked around for Alastair. "Stop it! Don't let it hurt anyone else!" she insisted, but he was nowhere to be found. Going pale, she stared helplessly at the destruction before her, unable to do anything but sink to her knees as tears began to stream down her face.

Stop it yourself, if you can. Sita would have.

The voice was mocking in tone, and almost identical to the one she'd heard when Kalika had looked at her. Stop it? How in the world could Samira do such a thing, she was merely a counselor to the Khan. But her mother had been no more than a counselor herself, she would have been just as powerless herself in this situation. So why did the voice of Kalika, if that's who was mocking her, continue to bring up the old veda's name?

As she had felt back at Alastair's hovel, the strange sensation of tingling began once again to rise up in Samira's body. This time it engulfed her entire legs, and the ground beneath her was beginning to feel curiously warm. There was a pulsing sensation as well, in a rhythm that matched her own heartbeat as it hammered in her chest. "Stop it..." Samira whispered, but it felt as though something else was speaking to her. The ground before her began to rise and bubble, like water just beginning to boil in a pot, and five large bumps in particular began to race towards the golem, almost as though a small troop of extremely large gophers were headed for the monster. But when the ground broke, it wasn't an animal that burst upward, but thick, ropey roots. Four seized the golem's limbs, and the fifth wound around its head, dragging it slightly backward.

Strong as the golem might have been, the powerful roots of the plains grasses were strong enough to outlast winds and storms and beasts alike, and these had grown to such enormous proportions that the monster was rendered utterly immobile, although Samira could still hear whirring mechanical noises coming from its chest. Very slowly she rose to her feet, taking a shaky step towards the bound creature, wondering what she could possibly do to destroy it once and for all.

 

[Pazzo]

Alastair felt.. odd.

He couldn't move. The wizard could see the Vedra right next to him, crying out to him to stop the mechanical creation, but then her eyes looked as if she couldn't not see him.
"Because you can't see me..." The wizard said to himself. He swore to himself, as he had acted in haste, and failed to see the little trap that his ex lover had left for him. A rift in time and space that would capture and render immobile any magically sensitive entity that it was attuned for. He had fallen right into it.

Alastair tried to git his teeth, but the muscles in his jaw would not respond. They were cold and still, as if they didn't belong to him at all. Panic welled up inside of him, as he watched the golem that he had found and restored, pieced together by hos own two hands, being used for wanton destruction. "Alright K..." His mind whispered to itself, as he beat down the feelings of panic and despair with his well disciplined thoughts. Terror and fear would serve no purpose, and nothing would be accomplished. He ignored the visage of destruction, and the negative feelings it threatened upon his psyche.

"First things first, break the spell." He thought, as he felt the threads woven into the enchantment that besieged him. It was a simple pattern of inter-dimensional binding. The power behind it however, holding the weavings and knots together, was potent. It was akin to a basic magic effect of an apprentice, but having the power of a mountain keeping it together. It was possible to unravel it, but it would take time. Time was something he did not have. He focused on the edges of the pattern, searching for the end knots that held things in place. Finding them, he then poured what little magical power he had left into those knots, rather than trying to untie them with his mind.

It was decidedly dangerous, to fight fire with fire, but he was out of options. He would be here for days other wise. With just the right amount of magic, a chain reaction would start and... The wizard had just enough time to think, as everything within ten feet of his body was immolated from the rapid expanse and release of magical power, otherwise known as an "explosion". Thankfully, there was nothing nearby but a loose yurt covering flapping in the wind, and a few ruined wooden poles. Alastair fell to one knee, gasping, as he felt the last of his power be drained away from the ad hoc dispelling action.

Taking a breath, he stood up, and looked around frantically. He felt something. A source of magic power, intense, but untested. Different though, as if it drew power from nature, rather than the arcane sources he was so used to tapping. He turned to see Samira, enveloped in what looked like a ghostly green nimbus of soft glowing emerald light, with leaves and wood bits circling her in what could only be considered an elegant manner. Thick roots sprang up from the ground, and then took hold of the maddened golem, immobilizing him, filling the area with a horrid noise of straining metal on metal, unyielding as it tried to free itself.

"How interesting..." He murmured, as he looked down at his hands, that were still clutching his dented metal Wok pan. He then looked back up at Frank, who's head was being bent backwards towards the ground by the thick, writing wood like roots that encircled the machine. The squeezed the golem, making the metal plates around its head dent inwards, one of which even popped open, revealing the machine's crystalline matrix. "Perfect..." The wizard muttered, as he ran up past the newly minted druidess, and scampered up the legs of the machine, and then to its back, holding the wooden handle of the wok in his teeth. Using the wok as an improvised bludgeoning weapon, the wizard swing with all of his might, hitting the large cut crystal squarely in its side, knocking it loose. It then changed from its characteristic blue color, to an angry red, as the golem's inner working ground to a halt. It them stood still, held up only by the woody embrace of the roots holding it.

The wizard dropped to the ground, and then deftly jumped to the side, as the massive golem fell to the ground with a heavy crash. The many woody roots then retreated away from it.
Alastair's stomach then growled angrily. The wizard was completely out of magic. His mind was likewise ravenous, completely unconcerned by the current situation. He had almost been reduced to that of a slavering animal...

He spied a nearby food cart, partially damaged from the golem's assault nearby. standing next to it was al older man, with a long flowing beard, paralyzed with fear, as he looked at the prostrate machine. Alastair approached the man purposefully, with a dire, hungry look on his face. "Here..." The wizard said, as he reached into his sleeves, pulling out various heavy bars and ingots of virgin platinum, each one a foot long and three inches thick. The wizard drew twelve such bars into the man's arms like firewood, only for him to fall over like a statue, still paralyzed from almost having been stomped into oblivion.

Alastair then slected choice cuts of salted meat, vegetables, and fresh butter from the reminants of the cart, tossing them haphazardly into his battered wok. He then walked back over to his stricken golem, having noticed that its stack was still burning and smoking away, as the coal within its furnace still smoldered. He placed the wok into the stack's openeing, and grinned as it began to sizzle, he then poked at it with a wooden stick, completely oblivious to the throngs of terrified people running away from him...

 

[Shiva the Cat]

There was no sense of control between Samira and the roots, or if there was it was more a sensation of the latter sapping at the former. Once the golem was restrained she began to wonder what else she could do to stop it down, but it felt as though she was holding a great weight on her shoulders, and she was tiring quickly. Then in a flash Alastair appeared, scaling the monstrosity as easily as a monkey might climb a tree, then once he was at the level of the thing's head he began to beat it with...good heavens, was that a cooking pan?

Just when the Veda was ready to pass out from exhaustion, the enormous metal beat suddenly fell silent, and somehow the weight on Samira was lifted. The roots retracted into the loose earth and let the golem fall to the ground, shaking everything around it violently and scaring off any horses that had still lingered nearby. That strange tingling sensation that had radiated upward from the ground and made her entire body vibrate swiftly began to diminish, but it didn't go out entirely. Instead, she felt it settle in the pit of her stomach, a small, curious spark that wasn't completely unpleasant. In fact if she were being honest, it felt very familiar to the afterglow after a powerful orgasm, and for a few minutes the woman didn't dare rise to her feet out of fear her legs would give way beneath her.

"Samira Veda?" A voice called out, but at first she didn't hear it. It wasn't until a young woman, one of her favorite servant girls, had run to the Veda's side and threw her arms around her shoulders, shouting to other survivors that their wise woman had been returned to them. Someone lifted her to her feet, or perhaps two someones carried her between them, but when her mind was finally clear again Samira was seated on a pile of rugs in one of the few tents still standing, a small dish of fermented mare's blood being lifted to her lips. She shut her eyes and drank deeply, then let out a long exhale (had she been holding her breath this whole time?).

"Water, please," She finally managed to say, and the nearest slave bounded off to fetch her some. Scanning the faces in the tent, she recognized all, but two were missing that were at the front of her mind. "Where is Batu Khan? And the wizard?"

Batu Khan staggered into the tent only a short time later, and after letting out a most un-Khan-like cry of relief he threw his arms around her and squeezed her tight. "Thank the stars," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I thought when the damned witch-man had spirited you away, we should never find you again. You are unhurt?"

"I'm fine," Samira answered, though she wondered if that was really true. "The wizard, Alastair. Where is he? I saw him stop the metal beast, but after that..."

The Khan's face darkened, and he made a scowl like an enraged tiger. "The whoreson will pay for unleashing those devils on us. The outriders are searching for him now, and when they find him, I will cut off his manhood and have them made into an amulet to wear around your neck. Then I'll tie his head to my saddle, and the rest of him--"

"No!" his sister instinctively cried, and everyone in the tent instantly gasped in surprise. No one contradicted the Khan. To do so was to forfeit one's life. Samira recalled herself in time to bow her head respectively to her brother, even going so far as to sink to her knees in front of me. "Forgive me, Batu Khan. I am still not myself. Strange...strange things have happened to me. But I would ask that you not kill Alastair, not yet. I wish to question him about what has occurred. He was not responsible for summoning this latest monster, I am sure of that."

"Sure of that! He has addled you," Batu Khan scoffed. "Did we not all witness him summoning six of those beasts only hours ago?" The others in the tent all murmured in agreement.

"Yes, but it was a misunderstanding. There is...there is someone else who sent this last one. Alastair was the one who stopped it, I saw it myself."

"Actually, Samira Veda," the voice of one of Batu's preferred women said meekly. "I saw you stop it. You made the roots come out of the ground, did you not?"

"You?" the Khan cried, staring at her in disbelief. "How could you do such a thing? You may be wise, Samira Veda, but you are no witch."

The Veda swallowed hard. She wanted to agree with him, but how could she be sure? Wise women could not do magic, and they did not hear voices in their head. "That is also why I wish to spare Alastair's life, for now at least. He may know what has happened. I am not asking you to release him," she said quickly, rising to her feet. "Indeed, I advise you take him as hostage. I myself will stand for him. Should he harm any of our people, or seek to run away, you may claim my life in his place. Will you take him as your prisoner, Great and Mighty Batu Khan?"

Her brother narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her, then slowly nodded. "Very well, Samira Veda. I charge you with the witch-man's parole. You will answer for any crimes he commits while in captivity of the Horde. And should we determine he was responsible for this most recent attack, both of you shall die for it." He held out a fist to the wise woman, and she promptly kissed his knuckles in subservience. When she rose again though, the Khan pulled her close again and whispered sharply in your ear. "If this is a fantasy of yours, Samira, an unchaste fantasy..."

She blushed deeply, but the indignant look in her eyes was enough to convince the Khan that she held no soft feelings for the wizard. "It is not, My Khan," she said firmly, taking a long drink of water before bowing again and being excused from the tent.

It didn't take long for Samira to find Alastair, and somehow it seemed wholly appropriate that he should be contenting himself with a bit of cooking and the bewildered company of old Kuyuk, who was staring bemusedly at several odd bars of metal. After dismissing the old man and assuring him she would see to it that no one would steal his...payment, as he called it, the Veda sat beside the wizard and let out a heavy sigh.

"Well, my brother is not going to kill you," she remarked, watching him as he stirred the meat and vegetables in the pan. "He is not convinced you aren't responsible for all of this--" Samira waved one brown hand around at the destruction that surrounded them. "--but he has agreed to give me charge of you. That technically makes you my prisoner, I suppose. I see you've had no trouble finding dinner?" There was no hiding the sarcastic edge in her voice as she raised one eyebrow. "I can arrange for a tent for you once things have been cleaned up a bit. You should know that if you cause any trouble, Batu Khan is going to execute me in your place, so I would ask that you avoid drawing too much attention to yourself."

She was silent for several moments as she watched him cook, trying to pick her next words carefully. "Did you do something to me?" Samira asked finally, looking Alastair directly in the eyes. "I made those roots grow, didn't I? How could that happen? I know nothing of magic. Until today, I had never even seen it firsthand. But you took me to your home, then you took me back. You made those ropes fall from the sky, and all those other strange things. Have you cast a spell upon me, Alastair?"

And if he had, did she want him to break it?

 

[Pazzo]

The wizard was completely consumed by his hunger, gnawing at a raw carrot like vegetable, growling at the sizzling meat in his wok. The butter he coated the bottom of the pan with was bubbling, and had rendered with the fat in the cuts of meat fairly well. He wasn't even certain what animal the meat was from, but he couldn't have cared less. From out of thin air he produced arguably the biggest knife ever, and tossed a handful of carrots and onions into the air. Still chewing at the orange taproot, his knife flashed this way and that, bisecting the carrots and their associated greens at least one hundred times, making them fall into the pan as coin sized orange discs.

The wok was huge even by his standards, easily three feet across, and was holding far more food than he could eat by himself. No longer able to wait, he snatched a piece of still sizzling meat from the pan, and devoured it. He grinned, as he recognized the taste of goat immediately, having a small herd of them on his farm back home. That was at least before he got into birds.

His hunger somewhat satiated, he let out a low sigh, savoring the still rare bite of animal protein. He jumped and then turned to face the kahn's tent, as he heard Batu howling in anger from within. Something about cutting off his penis and making it into a necklace.

"I'll be with you in a minute, Brian..." He half yelled, half growled back in the general direction from which the angry voice emanated, as he slid and flipped the meat and vegetables around in the melted butter and goat fat. Brian was simply the first name he could think of that started with B, as the wizard was too hungry to think coherently.

At some point, the beautiful Samira had come out to find him, and sat near where he was trying to prepare a snack to regain his magic. He just nodded absently as she spoke, hearing only about half of the conversation, but picked up enough to get the gist of what she was saying. "No, I didn't cast any magic on you..." He mumbled as he picked up a raw onion, and bit into it like an apple, chewing it, letting his eyes roll back into his head as he savored it flavor. It had been forever since he had a good onion. "...That root trick you did, that was all you. I'm not expert, but that was magic per se, like what I do. I'm a wizard. I shape reality directly with sheer willpower, and a connection to the astral weave...." He said mid chew, and then swallowed. "What you did felt like you were using your mind to coax nature, the plants in the ground, to do your bidding. What the word for it?" He said, scratching at his head. "...Nature priests?" he said, as if asking himself the question, and if the term sounded right. It was close, but not exact. He knew it started with a D.

"And no..." He said in a concerned tone. "...no one is killing anybody, well, at least not right now." He mumbled as he bit into a raw potato, smashed it with his hand, then tossed it into the wok. "...I'll go talk to him." He grumbled. After a few more minutes, he nodded at the odd assortment of food in his pan. "Food fixes everything. Watch this." He said, winking at the vedra.

He then looked around at the ground, and selected to big flat rocks. Picking them up, he tapped them a few times to knock off the excess dirt and dust, and then tucked them under his arm. A third rock was placed under the red hot wok, so it could be lifted safely from the bottom.

Looking something like a modern day waiter with a big tray of food, he started to stomp away from the ruins of his golem, towards the Khan's tent. People scampered out of his way, save for the two burly guards flanking the entry flap to the tent. "Don't tempt me." He growled at them. "If I wanted that horse loving bastard dead, He'd be that way, now move." he said in no uncertain terms. The Gaurds looked at each other nervously, but one of them nodded, and held the flap open.

"Right so..." He said in a loud voice, as the khan's attendants shrieked, and leapt out of the wizard's way as he approached. "...You appear to be a man of culture." He said to Batu, as he dropped one of the flat rocks on the rug in front of him, then the other one near it. "...So, let me share some of my culture with you, Brian-Kahn." He grumbled begrudgingly. Using his bare hand, he picked up a slab of the cooked goat meat, and bit into it, showing everyone in the tent what he was doing. He then tossed the slab of steaming meat onto the rock in front of Batu. "An offering of food is a sign that one cares for the other health. No poison I assure you. " The wizard growled. "...If I wanted to kill you, I'd choke you with my bare hands. Now shut up and eat, and listen." He finished, acidly, as he tossed handful of veggies around the meat on the rock for the khan. He then tossed meat and veggies onto his own rock, then poured the juices from the pan, half upon the food in front of the khan, and half for himself.

Satisfied with his ad hoc feast, the wizard tossed the empty pan over his head, only for it to disappear into thin air. He then plopped onto the ground in front of his own rood laden rock, and scooped up a mouthfull of carrots into his mouth. Chewing with his mouth open, he addressed the Khan in an informal tone. " I'm willing to consider the possibility that the men sent to kill me were just idiots sent by someone else..." He mumbled, wiping his mouth on his embroidered black sleeve.

grabbing the slab of goat from his plate, he brought it to his mouth, and tore off a sizeable bite with his teeth, chewed it for a minute, then swallowed it. "I did not kidnap your sister. I took her back to the crime scene in my yard, to show her the problem. Were were then attacked by more asshats, that were dressed like your men here. Sam however says while they looked similar, their arrow feathers were a dead giveaway. " He continued, belching so loud that it startled one of the horses outside. "And you don't really want to cut off my cock to make a necklace for her. Its too big and heavy, and might break her gorgeous neck..." He growled, as he shoveled another mouthful of potato mash into his face.

"Now, what I do know, is that a former lover of mine, now gone bad, is somehow involved, do you know of her, this "Blue Witch" who goes by the moniker Kalika?" He murmured. "She's the bitch who took control of Frank out there, and made him attack everything. Your sister's druidic... " His eyes suddenly widened, as he turned to face the side of the tent, as if to yell through it. "HEY SAM! I JUST REMEMBERED THE WORD!" He called out, and then turned back to face the Khan. "Anyways, her nature magic, was quite useful. Tell me, has she always been good with herbs, healing, and handling animals?"

 

[Shiva the Cat]

Samira couldn't hide the slight disgust on her face as she watched the wizard bite ravenously into a raw onion. If the stresses of the day hadn't been enough to kill what little appetite she had left, that certainly did. "I didn't tell anything to do anything," she answered, turning her face back to the fire. "If I am being completely accurate, it felt almost like they were controlling me. The roots only went away when it felt like I couldn't possibly..." What? Stand? Stay concious. "There was a strange sensation of stretching inside me," the woman tried to explain. "And it was approaching its breaking point. But before that could happen it all died away. I still feel it inside me though, a little." One brown hand rested lightly on her flat stomach, then she looked back towards Alastair. "Is that what it feels like for you?"

Ah, but talking to the wizard was like trying to speak to a leaf on the wind. Before she could stop him Alastair was on his feet and wandering back into the camp. "Wait! Where are you..." Oh no. I must put a leash on that man Samira thought grimly to herself, chasing after the wizard as he made his way towards the Khan's tent. "Alastair, you cannot just barge in and speak to the Khan, even if your intentions are good," she tried to tell him, but he would have things his own way. Batu Khan's guards might have intervened, but the last thing she wanted was another violent clash. As she came up behind the wizard, she signalled quickly to the men, who allowed him entrance to the tent, albeit with a skeptical look towards the Veda.

For his part, Batu Khan looked more confused than offended as Alastair strode in through the door. He'd been in the middle of discussing the needs for moving the outer families of the camp inward, and if it weren't for the fact he had not eaten all day he would have called for the wizard's execution right then and then. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and stood with his legs wide apart, glaring past the man with the walk to his sister. "Samira Veda, did you not only moments ago assure me you would take responsibility for this stranger?"

Coming up beside Alastair, Samira immediately dropped to her knees and bowed her head, then gently nudged the wizard's leg with her elbow, hoping he would take the hint to do the same. "Forgive him, Batu Khan," she apologized. "He does not know the ways of our people. He is as a child who knows no better than to walk into any tent. You are Great and Wise enough to see he means you no harm surely, and indeed has brought you a meal as tribute. I shall be sure to instruct him in matters of etiquette moving forward."

"See to it that you do," the Khan sniffed, then looked over at the pan of steaming food. It might have been appetizing if it weren't for the fact it was apparently served on a rock, but in a gesture of peace he gestured for a waiting slave girl to take it from Alastair and set it on a nearby table. "If you are so concerned with the well being of Samira Veda, witch-man," Batu Khan continued, looking down his nose at Alastair. "See to it you do not shame her with your savagery. She has put up her life for yours while you are among our people. I will admit your magic is...impressive. It may yet spare your life if you cross me. But it shall not save hers. Samira Veda is the most honorable of all the women of the Horde. Even if you should take it into your foolish head to kidnap her again, she would do what was necessary to protect that honor. Is that not true, sister?"

Samira swallowed hard, but raised her head high regardless. "I would, My Khan."

Batu Khan smiled proudly at her before turning back to Alastair. "As to witches, the Gods forbid any man or woman to work witchcraft. Why they let you live I haven't a clue, but I have faith you will receive your karmic punishment in time. As for Samira Veda's skills," the Khan shrugged. "She is a wise woman. She knows the way of plants, but anyone may do what she does with proper study. I see no need to keep more than one Veda on hand however, the rest of my people have more important things do than stare at the ground. Speak to her if you wish to learn more. Such things are beneath me." He waved his hand dismissively, a sign the Veda knew was a signal they should leave.

"We graciously thank you for your audience, Great and Mighty Batu Khan," his sister said as she rose to her feet. She was about to take Alastair by the sleeve and drag him out by force if needed, but before she could the Khan held his hand up again.

"One last thing, Samira Veda," he began slowly. "Some of the people claim to have seen...strange occurrences around you, during this most recent event. In my great wisdom, it occurs to me that if the phenomena were not the result of our illustrious guest here, which I very much doubt," Batu Khan glanced towards Alastair. "Then surely the Gods were intervening on behalf of our Blessed Veda. Under no circumstances, beloved sister, shall anyone accuse you of witchcraft, though I suggest the witch-man use more caution while exercising his heretical gifts among our people."

She let out a soft sigh of relief and bowed her head again. "You are most wise, My Khan. I shall take charge of the situation immediately." Her hand dropped to Alastair's wrist and her nails dug deeply into his flesh as she ushered him out of the tent, and it wasn't until they were alone near her own quarters that Samira turned a furious glare upon him.

"If you wish me dead, kill me and be done with it!" she hissed. "You insult the Khan and nearly get me accused of witchcraft. Do you know what they will do to me if they discover the truth? You may be a wizard, Alastair, but you are the stupidest wise man I have ever seen. Did no one ever teach you to hold your tongue, or do you simply care so little for the safety of others?" Releasing his wrist, she began to stalk towards the edge of camp. "I will assume your poor manners come from dwelling alone. While my instincts tell me the best remedy would be to quarter you among people who can teach you the appropriate way to behave, I do not trust you to keep your mouth shut about crucial details that would best be left between us. Therefore I think it best if you remain here."

She stood beside the door of a rather dreary, empty-looking tent with its brazier unlit and its pile of sleeping rugs left in dusty disarray. "No one will use this tent because the last inhabitant died of illness. It has been more than a month, however, and it was not a fever that spread very far, so I think it will suit you fine." And if he did die of plague, that would suit her just fine at the moment. Turning, she pointed down a long bluff towards a river flowing below the camp. "There is water there whenever you care to fetch it. You will find a fuel pile behind the tent if you wish for light or warmth inside. I will see that it is replenished from now on." A small smile tugged at her lips as she wondered what he would think of the dried horse dung that fueled all of the braziers in the camp.

"Can I trust you to pass the night without causing trouble?" Samira asked finally, feeling in her heart that no matter what he might say, the answer was definitely 'no.' But she knew of a hot spring a little way down the river that would be a relief after the long day, and she was anxious to free herself from him at least for a few moments of quiet meditation to reflect on everything that had happened.

 

[Pazzo]

Alastair was starting to think that Batu-Kahn did not inherit the legendary cunning of his father, as talking to him, and trying to get him to hear the voice of reason was about like trying to have an intelligent Discussion with a floor. "Witch-Man?" He grumbled in between chewing his rare goat meat slab, tearing it off with his hand. "That is like the stupidest thing I have ever heard." He said aloud "First of all, Witches are girls. Warlocks would be the male equivalent." He growled, as he shoveled another mouthful of the meat-juice soaked vegetables into his mouth, chewing noisily, with his mouth open. "But that is neither here no there, since they make a dark pact with some infernal being in which to gain their power and their magic ." He continued.

The wizard turned his head to the side, and spit out a well chewed piece of gristle, right on the floor. "I am a wizard..." He started to explain, as he lifted an earthenware jug of water to his lips. "...I spend many days researching spells and incantations, according to arcane traditions, IE, a lot of hard work." He finished, belching loudly. "...Your sister? Her power was something natural. She does not control it, it does not control her. If anything they are one in the same. The roots that came up out of the ground may as well have been her own fingers." He grumbled.

"But Batu Kahn, for once in your horse loving life, lose the arrogance, and open your mind. The powers I have, and the powers she has? They were given to us, by the gods. There is a god of magic, and she is not the kind who lives in a house out in the woods, made of candy, to lure out little children, to capture, torture and eat them." He finished. "Perhaps its time you became one with the times..." He murmured as he stood up. As Samira desperately tried to drag him away. "There is nothing unholy about your sister, and I don't...." He considered what he was about to say, and the potential outcomes.
His end goal was to Edify the Khan, not to piss him off.

Alastair could have easily cast his magic, and immolated everyone within a miles radius. He would have proven his point that he was the most powerful, and batu Kahn would be no more. He knew that. For all he knew, Batu Kahn knew that as well, and was just trying to save face in front of his subjects, by puffing out his chest to maintain the illusion that he was in control. Alastair looked to Samira, and then To The Kahn. "Thank you for the audience, oh wise and powerful horse-king..." He murmured in what was supposed to be a respectful tone, as Samira voiced her desire to take charge of the situation immediately.

there would be another time, and another way, to educate the ignorant young chieftain. As of right now, he had other matters to worry about, such as the gorgeous young dark skinned woman berating him for showing such blatant disrespect. After her issuance of all of his transgressions, he simply spread his hands out to the side, "No..." He said finally. "...I was born the son of a whore, and I have no idea who my father was. At the age of eight, I was on my own, little more than a guttersnipe, snatching unattended bread loaves from windows, and picking fleas off of my own legs just to survive." He growled at her.

"Just by chance, one day while running away from the constabulary, I tried to hide in a library. There were books there, but I couldn't read... Or so I thought. There was this one book that just sort of fell off a nearby shelf as I bolted the door closed. It hit me on the head, and then fell open. The pages blazed with a blue light, in a script that I could read and understand." he said as he looked into her eyes, livid.

"A year later, I was helping a blacksmith run his forge with fire magic, and making a pretty good living. The next year, he enrolled me in the academy, where I excelled. After graduation, I took up work as a mercenary adventurer. The next few years, I developed a reputation as a man who could get things done, for a price, and I did them. Not all of it I am proud of, but it was done, and done clean." He said, in an even more ominous, low tone.

"I'll spare you the rest. Lets just say I decided to move to the other side of the planet with a nice girl that I had met. To start a farm and maybe a family..." He continued, turning away.

"Only to come back from hunting herbs one day, to find a Horde raiding party attacking my farm. Apparently, a certain Kahn had decided he wanted my lovely wife as one of his concubines. She had refused, and fought back. They...." The wizard's voice trailed off. He stifled a sob, but the turned back around, his voice stern. "...I got my pound of flesh. Lets leave it at that." He finished. "... That was probably two hundered or so years ago. I was enjoying a nice quiet retirement, tending to my cassowarys and oxen, until this happened. " He growled.

"Killing you would accomplish nothing." He continued to rant. " ...And I'll be damned If I let that ..." The wizard clenched his teeth shut, as some more of the villagers walked past quickly, eyeing the two as they fumed.

Alastair just clenched his fists at his side, and then relaxed them. He then looked to Samira, then into the direction she has gestured to earlier. "Thats a river?" He grumbled. "I could do with a bath. You can help if you wish." He murmured, as he tore off another bite of rare meat from the slab he was holding, and then walked down the hill.

 

[Shiva the Cat]

Samira was unimpressed with Alastair's story of his past. She knew many who had lived such lives, only theirs had been cut much shorter than his apparently generous years. She was a bit surprised to hear the incident with the prior Khan and the wizard's wife had taken place two hundred years earlier, however. Either Alastair must have been mistaken as to the date of the occurrence, or the offender must have been a different Khan than her father. Ganba Khan had lived to be an old man certainly, and had seen more than eighty summers by the time he died. But it was impossible that a mere human like him could have been alive centuries earlier.

She took a slow, deep breath. "Batu Khan is a powerful man, and against most enemies I have no doubt he would be victorious," she began slowly. "But our people do not understand or trust this...magic--" It didn't seem like the best word to discuss the odd phenomena she'd witness in Alastair and herself, but she couldn't think of anything better at the moment. "--and in this case I do not think my brother can help us. At least, not until we learn more about the enemy and her aims."

The dark eyes softened, and in a sign of understanding the Veda reached out and gently rested her hand on the wizard's shoulder. "I do trust your knowledge in this, Alastair, and I want to listen to you and follow your advice in dealing with this strange witch. But for both of our sakes, we should keep Batu Khan out of this. He cannot help us as things currently stand, and if you should offend him or become a threat in his eyes, he will only turn on both of us." Her grip on him tightened slightly as her gaze turned serious. "I can protect you from my brother's wrath, and I wish to do so. But if you undermine me and seek to agitate him for the sake of your own pride, you will face Kalika entirely on your own. If that is what you wish, please leave this camp now and deal with her yourself, and spare any innocent lives that might be sacrificed for your ego."

It might have felt like she gave him the gentlest of shoves when she pulled her hand back, but it was hard to tell. "I am not your servant," she scoffed in response to his request for aid bathing. "You may wash yourself if you see fit, it is not my business. My only request is that you do not speak of magic to anyone, and that you stay away from Batu Khan. If you can abide by those two rules, I frankly don't care what else you do. Good night, Alastair." Without another word, she rounded the tent and began to wind her way through the camp, hoping he wouldn't follow her directly. She had not had a moment's peace since he'd appeared in front of her, and all she wanted now was a brief hour alone.

The Veda might not achieve a full hour, but she did at least get some isolated quiet when she reached her destination. The camp was nestled in a wide bend of the river, and perhaps a half mile upstream there was a small, brush-filled ravine with a little creek that fed into a wider, shallower channel. At the end of the ravine there was a small, rocky opening into the hillside, inside of which could be found the only hot spring for miles around. Many in the camp knew of the spring, but it was generally accepted that its use was reserved for the upper echelons of female society in the Horde (such luxuries were considered unmanly by the males). As the highest-ranking woman, Samira felt a particular ownership over the spring, however she often invited one or two of her brother's favorite slaves, or perhaps a particularly honorable wife of an outrider, to join her. Tonight though the spring was completely empty, and the small oil niches in the walls needed to be lit with flints to illuminate the warm, damp chamber.

Once the six little lamps were lit, they revealed a circular cave that was perhaps fifteen feet in radius, with a moss-covered ceiling seven or eight feet overhead dripping with moisture. A deep black pool steaming with heat was nestled against the back wall, and here and there were a few outcroppings that were useful for holding clothes or other belongings while a visitor was soaking in the spring. Samira wasted no time removing her shawl and dress, and after stepping out of her slippers she was left completely naked in the dim light of the cave. She did pause to better tie up her thick mass of hair, then with a deep sigh she slipped into the water, her feet finding purchase just as the water came up to her chin.

There was a little rise in the edge by the wall that made a very good seat, and once the Veda found it she let her body relax entirely as her hair draped over the side, and as her eyes began to drift shut she was surprised to hear another voice in the cave.

"That was nicely handled, Samira. Though you're a fool for leaving Alastair to his own devices." It was a woman's voice, slightly accented yet familiar.

Samira's eyes flew open, but as she looked around the cave she could see nothing but shadows and lichens on the wall. Her ears were not to be fooled though, and easily picked up the sound of feminine laughter. "If I wished you to see me, little one, I assure you, you would."

"Who are you?" the Veda asked, quickly crossing her arms over her chest just in case the speaker could see her breasts in the murky water.

"You know my name. But I don't think you know who I am."

The young woman hesitated, and began to feel alarm creeping down her body despite the warmth of the cave. "You are...Kalika?"

"That I am," the voice replied. "Though I used to be known by another name. Sita called me Sitri."

A startled gasp flew over Samira's lips. Sitri...she knew the name. Her mother had once had an older sister called the same. "You cannot be--"

More invisible laughter. "But I am, beloved one. Oh Samira, you must not fear me. I am your blood, and you are mine. I would never wish to harm you. I rather think we can help one another. You cannot be happy with your life, even as a Veda. I know your mother never was. At the end of the day, the sultan's chief concubine is still a concubine, and the Veda of a Khan is still a slave." The voice seemed to be moving now, and felt hot in Samira's ear. Without understanding why, she began to blush slightly, and could feel shocking sense of arousal growing within her. If her eyes were shut she would have sworn she could feel a soft hand running down her body, but no matter where she looked she couldn't see any sign of Kalika.

"You have power, Samira. You saw that today. I can teach you how to use that power. But first...I need you to do something for me. Something about Alastair." At the mention of the wizard's name, fresh venom seemed to drip into Kalika's voice.

The Veda shuddered a little, and shifted in her position. "I can't kill him. He's too strong."

"Oh my darling! I don't need you to kill him!" her aunt laughed. "I need you to make him yours. He will never trust me again, and even if he did, I cannot use him myself. But you...ah, Samira. Such a child he could give you. Let him, and I will take you away from all of this. From Batu Khan, from the Horde, from these horrible endless plains. I can take you to a paradise, my love, and teach you how to use those powers to make yourself free, and protect the world from people like your wicked father. I just need that one small favor. Come now..." Samira gasped as she felt an invisible finger sliding up between her legs, and the invisible woman laughed again. "Alastair isn't terrible to look at, is he? And it's been sooooooo long since you've had a man inside you. But tsk tsk, what would the Great and Mighty Batu Khan say if he knew about your lusts?"

Samira was squirming visibly now, making the water ripple and splash around her body. "He mustn't know!" she gasped, trying to escape the invisible hands that seemed to grab at her from every angle now.

"I won't tell him," Kalika replied matter-of-factly. "And I'll do what I can to protect you. But you must make Alastair give himself to you completely. Make him love you, if you can. Will you do this for me, Samira? Will you do this for your mother's sister?"

"I....I..."

 

[Pazzo]

Alastair just grunted, as the angry Vedra stormed off down to the river area, and the disappeared around the bend. Her flat out rejection, and sarcastic remark did little to agitate him, or to stifle his arousal, if anything, it made that internal fire burn just a little bit hotter. He grunted again at her as he remembered his promise not to do anything or talk to anyone. He chewed and swallowed the last bit of the medium rare goat meat, and licked his fingers clean. He was slightly peeved, but not completely aggravated.

She was however right. Despite his complete ignorance and pig hotheadedness, the Khan was a powerful individual, in human terms. Magic was of course likely outlawed and discouraged because it could be a threat to someone who was in power. It was all the fairly standard nonsense. Alastair would have to somehow get him to open his mind. The world was full of things more powerful than him, and he would need to learn to contend with them sooner or later, lest they outright destroy him.

Alastair could easily appear right in the Kahns tent, slip a knife into his ribs, or possibly his spine, and then twist it a little just for good measure, maybe make him scream. No, screaming would be bad, perhaps the ribs are better, the third and fourth, at a downward angle. With a long enough blade, that would sever the tube leading to the lungs and....

The wizard shook his head. He was getting distracted, fantasizing about making The Vedra's brother no longer a problem for her. Killing him would accomplish that, but then she would likely go crazy, and never forgive him, as she would always think it was his fault. The Khan would likely also blame all strange happenings on the wizard, just because it was convenient. He could have an excuse to then send his assassins to kill both him and Samira. Just how much of an asshole was he, really?

So, somehow, the wizard had to convince the Kahn of the utility of magic, or the bending of reality in all of its forms. The wizard started walking towards the river, in the way that the newly minted Druidess had went and disappeared, lost in thought. "Druidess..." He said, as he walked.

He knew a little about nature-magic, IF that's what Samira had indeed used. The energy he had felt when her powers manifested was different, and yet familiar, all at the same time. It made no sense whatsoever. It was a surge of power from the earth itself, channeling its power up through her feet and into her body, lending itself to her will. From that, she had stimulated the roots in the ground to grow exponentially fast, almost as if she had created little pockets of time around them, accelerating their growth in the normal sense, but only for the roots themselves, and then directing them in certain directions to immobilize frank. He nodded his head in agreement with himself.

Then he grumbled as he thought of all the work that the golem would require. Frank had been the second golem he had been able to restore to working order, after scrounging up parts over a twelve year period. For the longest time, he had no arms, and just stomped around behind the wizard as a parts carrier and packmule. Finally he had found an older federation cache of spare parts, and among them, had been the arms configured to shoot lightning blasts. They were for a different, older model of golem, but they were easily adapted to fit.

granted, Frank always seemed to be clumsy with them, and had aim for shit.
Before long, Alastair had found himself at the river, filled with silt, making the water a soft brownish black coloring at its deepest, but otherwise cool, clear, and inviting. Nearby, he saw the inlet to a cave, and could hear the Vedra's voice talking to someone, but she sounded, distressed?

Alastair felt a pang of fear hit his left side, as he quickly darted inside of the beautifully furnished and oil lamp lit cave, but given his current state of agitation, the charming nature of the room was lost to him, as he scanned the room, with crackling, white hot lightning licking up his fingers and forearms. He pointed his hands upwards at the ceiling, not seeing any bad guys, he then face the east wall. Still not provided with a target, he then faced the west wall.

In his haste, he then focused it upon a partially submerged female, with absolutely gorgeus, darkly tanned skin, with exqusite , long black hair flowing everywhere. Her magnificent breasts were fully exposed, with inviting, lightly pebbled nipples, preched upon dark areolae... Alastair's look of battle ready anger melted away to dumbfounded entrancement, as the lightning from his hands subsided, and crawled up his arms, to dissapate above his head, in a brilliant, momentary heart shape. His cheeks flushed red, as the front of his robe stood up, as his manhood had taken stark notice of just how attractive Samira really was.

Despite his unrefined nature, Alastair felt an initial reaction of propriety, to turn around, and be a gentleman. His body indeed turned, but his head and eyes stayed locked upon Samira's gorgeous, naked body. Finally, his neck could turn no farther, as his body kept spinning. He just turned it all the way around, as his body again came to face the Vedra. "I uh..." The wizard floundered, his brain short circuiting a little. "...I should go, and like be a gentleman, right? Chivalrous?" He asked of himself, as he spun around a few more times, as if to leave, only to turn back around, and admire the triumph of femininity that nature had accomplished when it gifted Samira to the world....

 

[Shiva the Cat]

"I'll make it easy on you, beloved one," Kalika whispered, and not a moment later Samira could hear the sound of footsteps rapidly coming up the ravine. She wanted to drop lower into the pool to conceal herself further, but somehow she felt rooted to the spot. Still, she must have moved; either that or the water level in the spring had dropped to leave her full, round breasts completely visible to the naked eye, her nipples hardening despite the warmth of the chamber. It might not have been so bad if it was merely another woman of the Horde coming to use the spring, but the figure who stepped into the light was certainly no woman.

It was Alastair.

"I've called him for you. Enjoy him." The words in Samira's mind were not her own, but she could no more resist them than her own growing desires. If she had been in her right mind, she would have immediately covered her chest and shrilly demanded the wizard leave her presence, warning him that it would mean both of their deaths if they were caught together. No man, not even the Khan's most loyal outrider, was ever permitted to see the Veda naked, and the way Alastair was looking at her (the way his body was responding to her!) would have earned him the most violent of executions.

But...Kalika had said she would protect them, wouldn't she? And she clearly had power. She had taken over one of Alastair's metal beasts, put Samira into a state of arousal like nothing she'd ever felt before, and called the wizard into the cave as though it were no more trouble than picking a flower. The Veda still didn't trust the witch's motives, of course. She was clearly no friend to the Horde, and she doubted Kalika was particularly fond of Alastair either. It was getting so hard to resist though, so hard to fight the urge to throw herself at the wizard then and there. It was almost like the sensation with the roots all over again, this feeling of being used and taken over.

And if Samira were to dare admit it, it felt good.

"You...don't have to go," she finally managed to choke out. Her feet found purchase on the slipper bottom of the pool, and Samira rose into a standing position, giving him a full view of her dripping body. Shadows played across her breasts and smooth, flat stomach, then collected between her legs where her pussy continued to drip even after all of the water had rolled away. "The water here is very warm. Men don't usually use it, but...I won't tell anyone." Her eyes were beginning to widen as they dropped down his body, fixating on that forbidden point that seemed to be reaching for her. A strange, soft noise of desire rose in the back of the woman's throat as her tongue swept across her lower lip, and Samira suddenly needed to sink back in the water before her knees gave out entirely.

One hand dropped beneath the waterline and slowly began to tease at her sex, while the other continued to reach out towards the wizard. "Please...sit with me? I should apologize for speaking so harshly to you before. I was frightened then, but I'm much calmer now." Could he hear the lie in her voice? Would he care? Did she? It felt like Kalika was speaking through her, but the voice was still clearly Samira's own, albeit having grown huskier from the steam. As her pupils dilated her eyes seemed to get even darker, and she was beginning to feel if he took any longer to remove his clothes she might go mad with the desire to see his naked body, feel him pressed against her--

She couldn't hide the little yelp that escaped her lips as her fingers brushed against her clit, and Samira blushed deeply, half praying he wouldn't realize what she was doing, and half praying he would take over.

 

[Pazzo]

"Ummm.... I....." Alastair could only stammer, dumbfounded. The wizard had bedded more than a few breathtaking females in his day, some of them human, some of them more-so. One of them had even been one of the fabled fae nymphs. A creature of such unearthly beauty, they could blind or even kill a man.

Alastair was not blinded nor killed, but he slept for three days straight after the encounter, and his eyes had trouble focusing for a week.

This female however, with her flawless, tanned skin, and beyond perfectly proportioned body? He felt as if his eyes might go crossed. To make matters worse, she appeared to have taken leave of her senses, asking him to stay, even appearing to offer herself to him. Her hand reaching for him, with that lusty, desirable, longing look in her eyes.

"Bad..." He whispered to himself. "....Bad, wrong..." He continued whispering, as his robe just hung open, revealing that underneath it, he was quite well toned, and even more naked. The wizard had no idea how in the hell his robe fell open, or off of his shoulders to hit the floor. For but a moment, he thought of what might happen if they were to be caught. Samira would of course be dishonored, and the wizard would have been made the number one enemy of the Khan, having numerous hit squads sent after him until his head was brought back on a platter.

He had killed Batu's great great several times removed grandfather a while back, and that man had been far more powerful. Even if they were caught, how hard would it be to just marry her? Would being married to this beautiful creature really be so bad?

At that point, he watched her hand dip below the waterline, and then heard her rich, sensual lips let escape a sweet moan of release. Damn Batu and his nonsense. This woman was easily worth dying for. Twice, maybe even three times.

Alastair made no sexy slow movements, like a casual saunter into the water, swaying his hips so that the aroused woman might get a better look at the fully erect member that she would be screaming upon soon. Instead, he just jumped into the water, raising his arms up around himself as he leapt, doing several flips in the air before he entered the pool as a full blown cannonball, splashing the girl and everything else in the cavern in an unceremonious rush of heated, steamy water.

For a few moments, he stayed under, as a row of rising bubble laced across the surface towards the self pleasuring woman. Samira was then lifted up out of the water as the wizard stood, with his lean, powerfully muscled arms hooked around her thighs, with her womanhood, inches from his face. He gently deposited her generous, sexy butt on the edge of the pool, and laid her back gently. He then sent a row of kisses up and down the inner surfaces of her succulent thighs, only to bite and nip at the delicious tendons that were exposed at her inner hips, beautifully framing her glistening, tasty looking labia. He teased her for a few in this manner, his teeth and lips getting very close to her aroused slit, only to back off and nip somewhere else.

Using his fingers, he held he hot, throbbing petals to the side, as he licked up and down that little valley between her mons and her entrance, on both sides, humming as he worked.

Two fingers then slid into her sodden depths, and then bent upwards and back, as the pads of his fingers gently searched and probed, until they found that sensitive little rough spot, just behind her pubic bone. His fingers then pressed, and rubbed little circles into this spot, as he slurped her throbbing bundle of nerves into his mouth, holding it with his teeth, as his tongue licked it from side to side, then up and down, in a dizzying array of patterns and strokes, not letting her know what to expect or get accustomed to it.

Then the wizard started to hum, making his teeth vibrate deliciously, right upon her clitoris.

 

[Shiva the Cat]

The spell nearly broke at Alastair's sudden movements. Samira forgot her own arousal for a moment and let out a warning cry, wanting to tell him that the spring was shallow and to dive into it like a pool was to risk shattering every bone in his body. Idiot wizard echoed through her mind, and the veda wasn't sure if the thought was her own or Kalika's. But as a wave of warm water drenched her hair and face, she felt herself slipping under again. After all, there was no sickening 'crunch' sound, and while the steam and water obscured the dark-haired woman's vision for a moment, she could still feel that irresistible male presence near her.

Something brushed against her legs, and before the woman knew what was happening she was being lifted upward, gripped by powerful arms that squeezed mercilessly at her legs and ass, forcing a soft grunt from her lips. A beard was scratching at the inside of her thighs, making her squirm and reflexively clamp her legs more tightly around his head, but that only seemed to encourage the wizard further. "Al...astair!" the veda gasped, feeling his nose nudge at her sex for a moment before brushing farther away from the opening. His breath was making her clit swell with need, and the sent of the mineral-rich water was mixed with her own musky juices as she dripped heavily on the slippery stone floor of the cavern. Beneath the water where her lower legs still dangled, her toes were curling and uncurling rhythmically while her feet paddled helplessly, mixing the soft sounds of splashing with her breathless cries of pleasure.

Her upper body wasn't nearly as restrained though, and her soaked body jerked and jiggled roughly against the floor like a fish out of water, desperate for release. The motions only sped up when she finally felt the rough, thick fingers of the wizard probing deep inside her. Even if she weren't aroused enough to soak his fingers with her sticky sweet fluid, the heat of the spring had so relaxed her that she could have easily accommodated more than the two digits teasing and tickling her from the inside. In fact, as her eyes widened and rolled up to the shadowy ceiling, her greedy sex even seemed to demand more, and only quivered defiantly as the wizard turned his attention to her clit.

"Alastair!" Samira shrieked again, her hips beginning to buck uncontrollably. She was so close to the edge now, and he showed no sign of letting up. Her hands began to clench and unclench, and with nothing else to grab onto her fingers finally buried themselves in his wet hair, forcing his face deeper inside her to achieve that last final push. "You're...you're going to make me...ah!"

A gush of fluid burst over his fingers as her wall clenched tight around him for a moment, then exploded into uncontrollable spasms for nearly a minute. Samira's back arched sharply against the floor and thrust her breasts upward, the waves radiating out from her sex until her entire body was shaking. The scream that escaped her lips slowly died into a groan, then into a series of gasps as the pleasure subsided. But as the orgasm passed she somehow felt even more sensitive, and she couldn't help but continue to whimper and writhe in his gasp, every touch so powerful it threatened to push her to the edge again.