Damsels and Dungeons

[xavierrol]

Character Threads

OOC Discussion

The City of Yartar was still teaming with life as the business of commerce began to give way to the somewhat more relaxed business of whatever happiness the denizens could find or afford. It was a cross roads town, largely catering to either the caravans going east and west, or the barges going north and south. Most cargo simply passed through the town on its way to or from greater cities and markets. However the modest produce of the Dessarin Valley would begin its journey at this regional hub of transport. The valley was blessed with fertile soil and a hardworking populace that added more than its share of food stuffs and finished goods bringing a measure of peace and prosperity to the land. The kind of place people could raise a family of strapping young lads and beautiful lasses. While mostly human, the occasional halfling and even some elves were a frequent and welcome sight.

This night though, there were storm clouds on the horizon, both literally and figuratively. A late spring storm was sweeping in from the western sea and rumors of disappearing maidens in the valley below Yartar had been circulating since the spring thaw set in. The storm was real enough, people could feel it in the air, so far though the rumors were just that, rumors. From the security of Yartar and the Waterbaron's Shields of Yartar, it was easy to dismiss such grumblings as bored milk maids looking for a better, more interesting life. Even if there was some truth to them, certainly the fine ladies of Yartar were safe here in the fortified city. One couldn't just drag a screaming damsel off the street without arousing a forceful response. Not that Yartar was without crime by any means, it just required a certain amount of subtlety. The ladies of the Hand of Yartar could pick pockets or slit throats and be long gone before anyone was the wiser. But even they knew not to be too flagrant and were careful not to cause more trouble than a few well placed bribes could soothe.

 

[Illven]

Aerendyl, who's brain was occupied elsewhere at the moment, barely paid any attention too the rope. Too used to traveling missionaries exalting the value of a few tens of rope she was used to practically everyone having one. "Just like that~" Aerendyl mewled at being pulled to Nareen's breasts, suckling and licking eagerly while to rid her nose of the irritating tickle in it, she rubbed her face against Nareen's chest~

 

[xavierrol]

The Evermoor Way - 5 hours east of Yartar

There was indeed a tree fallen across the road. Well not exactly fallen as there were no trees nearby, more like cut down, dragged and carried a half league, the roughly placed across a small bridge where the carriage could not easily swerve around it without upending. The driver was bright enough, barely, to discern something was amiss but turning around such a heavy and ostentatious bit of livery was no small task and he couldn't do it from the driver's seat so he had no option but to stop. He had barely stood up to climb down from his perch atop the carriage when no fewer than six orcs streamed out from under the bridge. Soaking wet from the cold water and with ill tempers to match, they quickly surrounded the carriage and driver. The shaky voice of the driver could be heard from inside the carriage. "Ah Miss di'Arramont, we have a problem." It was rather an understatement as the drivers hands went up in surrender, any one of the dangerous looking orcs would have been more than a match for the old man.

The largest and fiercest looking of the orcs, clearly their leader went to the door of the carriage, as the others pulled the old driver from his perch. Not being particularly skilled at the concept of door latches he skipped the first step of 'turn and pull' and went right for pull. The carriage swayed with a sudden jerk before the wood splintered around the catch and the door flew open. The fearsome orc paused for a moment as his eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight to the dim interior of the carriage before his eyes were able to clearly focus on the occupant or occupants of the interior.

 

[Ahlanna]

The Evermoor Way - 5 hours east of Yartar

Hearing the tension in the drivers voice, Lydia's heart jumps a little truth be told, but she remains outwardly calm, glancing through one of the little windows. out of the carriage.

Oh, bother, they've already surrounded it.

By the positions of the two she could see, there were at least four, and probably more if they were making sure there were multiple people on the driver. And why wouldn't they do so? She had told those moron elders their carriages needed to be fitted with hatches and underside smuggling holds, but they were rarely reasonable about such things. As it was, Lydia was sure their habit of overmarking the carriages with signs of wealth increased the family's bribe, tarriff and "fee" expenses. But House Arramont had a bit of a chip on its shoulder and displays of wealth were the elders' preferred methody of therapy.

Well, obviously she would not be fighting off four. Even two was more a theoretical exercise than serious possibilty. Freeze one, use Mage Hand to loosen the yokes on one of the horses, fire a distraction the other way, slip out the side, onto the horse and take off before the first could come out of magical stupor. It would have a *chance* anyhow. Not a particularly good one, not if they had anyone with ranged weaponry. And why wouldn't they have at least one? Two more likely, given the numbers. Neither flight nor triumph seemed to rise to the level of 10% odds. So they were out. And if flight was out, and victory was out, what was left?

Diplomacy, of course. Or more precisely negotiations. And any real negotiation would begin with an honest assessment of her position. All the movable goods on the carriage were effectively already theirs. So openly acknowledging that ... well it may not help matters, but it certainly had no cost and could at least cause some pause. While one of them is moving to the door, Lydia unties her coinpurse. As she hears the door splintering, she holds up the bag up, fat with gains from Sundabar.

The first thing almost anyone notices about Lydia di'Arramont is her rich red hair, the color of an especially fruitful wine, like those of the elves. And that was fitting as the fourth thing, for a typical observer, were the pair of delicately pointed ears emerging from said hair. The third - at least with male observers - was of course her tapered hourglass waist, no one doing an honest day's work had a waist like that, not unless they were short, and Lydia was not all that far from six feet. But her height typically hadn't been noticed yet, unless the observer was female. Because the second thing any male noticed tended to be the ample swell of her chest. Lydia didn't mind, far from it, they made negotiations so much easier, and she dressed for attention.

Speaking of dress, a cloak with tufts of white fur at the collar helped define her status - even more thoroughly and a lot more cheaply than the carriage, as she would have explained to her foolish elders if they ever bothered actually speaking with her. Underneath that, a mint green vest was deployed, adding color and matching the similarly hued silken skirt below, yes, but that wasn't the real purpose. The real purpose was to provide an air of demure conservatism, offsetting the sensuality of the tight, body-hugging floral top with exotic - but very deep - neckline that peeked through the opening of the vest. She was wearing travelling boots, at least. The Evermore Way was a poor place for high heels if anything went amiss.

As the latch is pulled asunder and the door springs open, she peers at the momentarily adjusting raider, taking the initiative to hand the ample coin purse to him. "Finest plunder to you, strong boss." Orcish didn't really have a lot of words like sir, or frippery like 'good day' - orcish respect was around physical skill (strong obviously) and position of authority (boss, what his raiders likely called him). Most people didn't take the time to understand the culture behind a language, just translating the words they would use.

Lydia had practiced her orcish with captives in Silverymoon, working to improve her accent from 'moron child' to 'exotic and intriguing'. They assured her the efforts were fruitful, and rare occasions she had an opportunity to work with orcs since, they'd been suitably surprised that one of the arrogant races had bothered. "As I have been captured, I am pleased to find it is by so powerful, skilled and large-cocked a warrior as yourself. Your ambush was well planned." Her language would have been a lot more flowery were she speaking in Common, with extra clauses, and novel word order to put on an air of sophistication. But this was no noble she was addressing, and she wasn't speaking Common. She wasn't absolutely sure she had been 'captured' per se, that depended on the orc's intentions. They might well just be after the loot. And if so, phrasing her statement that way would make it likely the orc would in fact reveal that kernel of truth in response.

Of course, the alternative was that Lydia was, very much, captured. In which case his response was still likely to reveal her position to her, so that she could properly choose her next words.

 

[xavierrol]

On the Stone Road with Captive Tabitha

@Ironuyh

Ada drove the cart as she would draw the least amount of attention as she drew a simple bonnet over her head to cover her elven ears. Unless someone approached very closely, they would think she was very much just a local farm girl. A goblin driving a cart on the open road would cause way too much concern if anyone were to see them. That left the goblins to burrow into the back of the cart with the supplies and their now naked captive.

They had been too fearful of her spells to risk removing her gag but it took them mere seconds to begin groping and exploring their prize. Her bindings were enough to keep her from getting out of the cart and escaping, but clearly they were interested in more than just holding her. They tried to wrestle her into a face down ass up position so they could use at least two of her holes for their pleasure. But she was stronger than them, but they were three and she alone and bound.

Struggle?

If you want to try to stop them Roll D20: 15 or better to keep from being positioned as they want her.

 

[xavierrol]

@Illven

White Winged Griffon - Private Room

With the pink haired elf sufficiently distracted by Nareen's now freed breasts she approached her with rope in hand. She kissed the elf on the lips again as she began to bind the smaller woman's wrists. With well practiced hands, the human didn't even need to look as she pulled the rope snug at the wrists before standing in front of the seated elf. Practically hypnotizing her with her breasts she again offered them up as a distraction, moving back and forth to gently batter the elf's face with her heavy mounds. As she did this, she pulled her wrists up over her head and behind her. She held the rope still attached to the wrists with one hand, with the other she began to expose the elf's smaller but well formed breasts. Nareen then wrapped more rope around the elf's chest, just below her breasts, then bound one to the other.

"You are so beautiful." She said with a warm smile before kissing the elf on the lips then lowering her face to taste her nipples.

 

[xavierrol]

White Winged Griffon to Beldabar’s Rest @Ahlanna

Nocknoss took the opportunity of Ixana's extended discussion of ship building history to finish his ale. The only three items of real interest to him was her basically agreeing to his plan, an upgrade in accommodations, and sharing a room with Ixana. While glad to not have to debate the plan anymore, her endorsement didn't exactly make him feel better about it, it may have even made him more nervous. Having the lovely warlock alone in reasonably comfortable accommodations was something like a fantasy come true for the randy little gnome. Sure they had camped outside in a group plenty of times, but somehow this had to be different. Certainly she must feel the same way, at least a little? Hopefully she didn't have much luck finding them a bodyguard, at least not until morning.

On the way to Beldabar's Rest he did make several stops at the market and was fairly generous with Ixana's coins. Assuring her that each little shiny object was absolutely essential to their plan. As he gets started he looks at her signs. "You sure about this Ix, maybe it would be a bit simpler for it to just be us, you know I got your back like always?" He told her, standing to his full height of just under 4 foot and puffing out his chest to make him look a bit more than his 3 stone weight. Of course he was still a full foot shorter than her and looked like a stiff breeze might blow him away.

 

[xavierrol]

The Evermoor Way - 5 hours east of Yartar

The orc war chief sniffed the air, taking in the half elf's scent from the interior of the gilded carriage. He reached out reflexively for the heavy bag of gold, more than he had ever seen in one place, though he wasn't really here for gold. But it was her voice the gave him pause once more. Not just the tone and quality of it, but she was speaking orcish, wasn't she? He blinked at her again, wondering if she was playing some kind of trick on him. "Elf?" He asked, seeing the pointed ears, his rather simple mental categorizing system of humanoid races essentially equated beautiful with pointy ears as being an elf. He had no real subtlety about such things as half elves and he'd certainly never heard an elf speak orcish before.

He handed the bag of gold to the orc behind him, as if it were a trivial thing, his eyes still focused on what was apparently the true prize of this raid. Her words did flatter him, his already massive chest swelling at her description of him. "Me Grull, war chief, plenty strong." He said as he put a foot on the runner that acted as a step into the carriage, his mass rocking the entire chassis to his side. The girl would either have to brace herself or slide closer to him. His massive arm stretched into the cabin of the carriage as if he were going to snatch her out. Instead he grabbed a handhold and pulled himself inside, barely fitting through the door.

The second time she spoke, there was no doubt, she was speaking orcish. "Is this a trick?" He asked, not bothering with the absurdity of asking someone trying to trick him if it was really a trick. Why wasn't she screaming for her life and virtue? And why the hell was she speaking orcish? This was a very strange she elf indeed. When she mentioned his cock he looked down, as if wondering if he had exposed himself even before he had intended. "You slave now, Grull's slave." He said as if to settle all matters between them, after all what else did she really need to know?

Climbing fully into the carriage, the springs groaning from his weight, he looked back out the door at the other orcs. "Lead the carriage down to the river, I shall stay in here and enjoy my new slave." He commanded, his initial plan was just to take the occupant and leave the carriage, but it looked a much better place to fuck his new slave than out in the woods. He went to close the door but it simply swung open again as the latch was splintered. He tried again with the same result, growling at the door as if he could intimidate it into working properly.

Not accustomed to carriage travel he practically fell into Lydia as the carriage started with a jolt, the horses nervous from the orcs. He recovered his posture and just as he reached out to claim his prize, the carriage began heading down hill and he fell back into the seat opposite Lydia. The raid had been a great success, but so far the plunder wasn't quite going to plan.

 

[Ahlanna]

Fishyard to Beldabar's Rest

Ixana is her usual pleasant self with all the merchants and tradespeople, helping the gnome get everything he needs for what she hopes are very impressive looking bonds.

"Nock, I know you can handle almost any opponent," Ixana was typically okay with lies to spare people's feelings. "... but they took down Lo'anta, and you know she was a hell of a fighter. Until I manage to arm myself and get to you, you're going to have to fight them off. Do you really want to risk them not figuring out what is going on until I'm armed and at your side? Drawing your crossbow is certainly going to let them know something is up." Ixana stops, to rest a steady hand on his shoulder, "We can't let them hurt you, and I can't help you until I'm loose."

She starts putting up the signs.

As for rooming together, Ixana had Nock comfortably in the friend zone and knew she could trust him to be a gentleman. Besides, she was quite nimble and a much better fighter than the little gnome. So it's not like she wouldn't be in control of the situation. No there was nothing to worry about from that angle. Her focus was on the bastards who had Lo'anta. She stops by an alchemist shop, but it seems like the proprietor is out. "Too bad, we could have smuggled in potions by having them re-bottled as oils or such. Well, maybe we can try again in the morning or something. Oh, there's a Calimshite trader. Do you think I should get a harem veil? Would that go with your designs?"

Ixana was pretty sure a translucent veil would make the bandits a lot less wary about her. No harem girl could possibly pose warriors a threat, right?

 

[Ahlanna]

The Evermoor Way - 5 hours east of Yartar

Lydia was pretty sure screaming for her virtue wouldn’t work. In fact, she’s reasonably certain that absent the sudden and inexplicable arrival of reinforcements, there’s no way out of this that doesn’t involve sex with the raid leader. Some women would waste their leverage trying to bargain their way out, only to end up raped not only by the raid leader, but probably his orcs too. But Lydia was a more savvy businesswoman, and she did still have something to trade – consent, enthusiasm, sexual skill … and other things as well, but first she had to deal with Grull’s immediate demands before working on the longer-term relationship.

“Mmm, yes, I can see your strength. Your muscles … your …” She makes a show of licking her lips. “…power. Grull makes other males weak and pale by comparison.”

She squeaks a little as the orc is tossed into her, but instead of trying to pull away, Lydia wriggles enough so that his hand is on her jiggly bosom. One hand takes his fingers and pushes them under the fabric of her floral-print top, through the opening of her cleavage. Of course, he’s far more powerful than her, and if he resists at all, she will fail. But somehow Lydia doubts Grull will mind.

“Pleased to meet you, Grull. My name is Lydia, and I am a slave of the mightiest war chief around. An orc of such … amazing power and strength. Rrrr.” She stretches a little, pushing her chest into the orc's hand. Quite tall for a humanoid woman, she begins undoing her vest with her left hand.

“My mighty chief, fixing things like that isn’t a job for someone of your power. Let your slave handle it. I have many things I can do for you. But we can talk about that later. We elves are a mouthy lot, and I would rather focus on your needs right now.” She reaches out with her right hand, pulling the door closed. “But this will take only a moment. ”

Lydia’s big blue eyes catch Grull’s as her lips begin murmuring words of magic – right in front of him, not even bothering to hide it. The Mending cantrip is an incredibly useful spell, healing broken, shattered, splintered things. Things like the door latch. Once the repair has taken, she smiles at him, “Of course, I know the rule is to gag me now. I can think of a good tool for the job.” Bringing her hand off the carriage door, she moves it to rest against his loincloth, as she licks her lips again.

 

[xavierrol]

The Evermoor Way - 5 hours east of Yartar

Grull's eyes narrowed as the beautiful elf-like creature that was now, he thought, his slave confused him with her rapid but simple talk laced with compliments and sexual innuendo. This was not at all how such raids were supposed to go and this female didn't seem to understand her part in this whole thing, where she were supposed to fight if she could or at least make a fuss. Instead she was like the ring leader of her own abduction and rape. As he was thrown towards her, he catches himself with one powerful arm beside her to keep from crushing her. The other hand somehow ends up just above her full bosom which jiggled enticingly from the motion of the carriage. He looks on with disbelief as she not only doesn't fight him but instead shoves his big green hand into her top. A handful of tit for a creature like Grull was an impressive bust indeed. He squeezed her tit flesh even as he snarled at her, his hot breath on her face and cleavage, he knew she was up to something but couldn't quite put his finger on it. But instead of wilting like a flower she begin to undo the buttons on her vest, exposing more of her firm ripe melons. He feels like he should be forcing himself on her, shredding her clothing, but she constantly seems one step ahead of him, throwing him off his usual game of plundering.

The nuisance door she closes then he sees her trap as she casts a spell which he is certain will throw him out of the carriage or turn him into a flaming pile of ash, or maybe a newt. He can't move quick enough to stop her as he held himself up with one hand and the other she cleverly lured to her bosom. He winces as she speaks her magic but instead of searing pain the door simply stays closed now. He looks at the door then at his new 'slave', his orc brain struggling to make heads or tails of this creature. She touches his orchood through his loincloth, one thick green eyebrow raises, as she talks of him gagging her in a very clever way. His mind struggles to catch up with her but before he sees it for himself he is thrown back as the carriage heads down a steep embankment away from the road and towards the river. He lands hard on his back on the opposite seat. Lydia is thrown as well so that she is now on top of him. Her heavy breasts spilling out of her open top practically into his face. The gilded carriage clearly not meant for off road use and the orcs now leading the carriage having little knowledge of such fine livery.

 

[Ahlanna]

Wilderness east of Yartar

Lydia leaves her mint green top on the other bench. The two shoulder straps of her ice-blue floral print with the heavy cleavage are slid onto her upper arms. The next jolt of the carriage sends the cloth straight down her arms, leaving her white plunge bra exposed. So she unhooks it, and tosses it aside leaving herself topless above the abdomen. Her boobs are in Grull's bewildered face, twin pink nipples jutting from fleshy mountains that quake with the carriage's wild motion.

Those idiots up top should have put her driver back in charge. Well, no help for it now. The best way to stop herself from getting jiggled like crazy is to lean into the big orc, rubbing herself down him as she repositions. First she slides down his face, then the two rounded peaks are pressing into his chest as her lips lower to his green neck, kissing the skin passionately. Next she continues downward, rubbing herself across his muscled body as her lips dance a trail of kisses between his pectorals. Her breath heated on his body, she lowers herself further as her fingers tug at the ties on the garment shielding his mighty orchood.

Once Grull is free of his special raiding pants, Lydia continues her descent. Her hot kisses make their way down to his navel, as her breasts brush over Grull's liberated rod. Moving to kneel on the carriage floor, Lydia continues the line of kisses down, before finally moving to the tip of his mighty scepter, kissing twice and then beginning to polish the sensitive flesh there with her tongue. "So big ..." The sorceress is careful to sound surprised and slightly entranced - though she's not sure if the innuendo works the same in orcish as in common.

Well, if she can't count on her words to send the right message, there are other ways to communicate orally. Her lips parting, she vanishes Grull's tip into her hot, wet mouth with an "Mmm" sound as she presses her tongue into the trapped underside and her eyes roll upward to his face. Lydia sucks, savoring him like a dessert for several long seconds before she begins to bob her head on the war chief's orchood.

This certainly would raise the difficulty on any newtification the sorceress may have in mind.

 

[xavierrol]

Fishyard to Beldabar's Rest

Gnomes were no better at taking 'no' for an answer than males of most other species. The difference was, gnomes rarely had the pleasure of forcing their will on others physically, but they could be pretty damn persistent and finding other ways and Nock's clever mind was already working on Ixana's gentle, but no less disappointing let down. "I guess." He says like a petulant child and shrugs the shoulder she set her hand on and continues walking, at least until he sees the next shiny object he 'must' have to complete his project.

The inn was rather unique being underground, the room was nice enough and felt very secure. Nock quickly got to work and the clinking of his little hammer was soon filling the room as he worked and tinkered. It was not long before there was a soft rap on the door and one of the staff was waiting for someone to open the door. It would likely have to be Ixana as Nock was clearly in his zone of inspiration and barely even looked up at the interruption.

"My compliments Miss." The nervous bellboy stammered out even as his eyes seemed focused just a bit below Ixana's. "There are several, ah gentlemen, inquiring about your signs." He offered then fidgeted with the collar of his staff uniform as if it were just a bit too tight as he continued to look at Ixana's well displayed breasts. She would need to end the conversation with him somehow, as he seemed perfectly content to eyeball her funbags for the rest of the evening.

Assuming she answered the summons to the great hall of the Inn, she would find two fierce looking warriors who, other than both being male, couldn't have been more different. The first, Lars, was shaggy and uncouth, his eyes almost immediately working their way up and down the warlock's sexy body, barely concealing his lust before finally looking up into her eyes. He held one of her posters, which he apparently had ripped down, not seeing much need to continue to advertise a position he clearly intended to fill. "This you?" He asked, lifting a tankard of ale to his lips and drinking, some of it running down his shaggy beard before he wiped it with his sleeve.

"Of course it is her, what other beauty within a hundred leagues is so precious as to need the finest and strongest sword arm to protect her?" The second, Ivan, exclaimed in a voice that was both strong and refined. His eyes met hers and stared deeply for a moment before he glanced down but only to find her hand to raise to his lips for a soft kiss. "Ivan Rostoff, at your service Miss." He said with a slight bow as his eyes returned to hers. He had emerged from several rather expensively dressed women who had seemed to be admiring him before he ignored them to talk with Ixana.

Both seemed interested in being her protector, hard to say how they would feel about guarding a gnome.

 

[Ahlanna]

Beldabar's Rest - Inn under the Fishyard

Nock's job is important, and Ixana ferries him a mug of one of his favorite beverages as he's working. "Making progress, huh?" She doesn't really know much about shackles, straps, harnesses and other instruments of bondage, so she'll just trust Nock is making progress. "Things seem to be going well!"

About that time there is a knock on the door, so Ixana heads to answer it. She has changed into city clothes, of course, no reason to wear all that armor around town, after all. The new outfit has somewhat more traditional - but still quite deep - cleavage, so it's not especially surprising that the bellboy gets entranced. Playfully, Ixana jiggles a bit for him as a tip, bouncing just a little on her heels. "Oh, thank you! Is something amiss with your collar - it seems uncomfortable?" She waits a bit, before tousling his hair and sliding past into the hallway, heading for the main room.

Striding into the common room, she approaches the strong, studly one holding her handbill - though she is stopped short by the same vision that distracted most of the other women in the room. Ixana is normally the one using her appearance as a weapon, so perhaps its only fair that karma finds her already poor attention span torn between two very different visions of manliness. A generally cheery person, a faint smile is Ixana's default expression and it stays mostly fixed on her lips, except for the fluttering of eyes and even more upturned corners when her hand is swept up and kissed. Oh my.

Such a gentleman!

"I-it is a pleasure to meet you ..." she manages to rip her eyes from the lovely Ivan to include Lars in the conversation. It's not like Lars was chopped liver or anything, "... both. Mister Rostoff is correct, it is I indeed who seeks a strong and skilled arm. Shall we repair to a table to discuss?" She motions off to the side in the general direction of one of the tables. Normally, Ixana would be very precise with her gestures, but tonight she's a little distracted.

Turning in her violet dress with earthen accents and belt, she glides to the table, her heeled feet set one before the next as she walks, causing the dress to flex and swish around her hips - a bit tight as it contours to her thighs and ends just below her knee, but not so much as to overly restrict her motion. Not her walking motion anyhow. Fighting in it might be rougher. Ixana has her golden hair pulled up, though there's simply too much mane for all of it to sit on her head, so a thick tassel makes its way below her left shoulder and other strands dance behind her neck. A earthen belt keeps her waist cinched in, showing off her form without being too open about it, this outfit is for social events and complies fully with hidden rules of the unspoken competition ever present at such things. Sexy, not slutty. Your waist and hips can be flattered by the outfit, but never a display of skin there. Bare shoulders, plunging neckline or a high-slit leg are acceptable, one is expected, two is aggressive, and three ... three is scandal. But Ixana's outfit has only the neckline, and would not violate the rules at anything save funerals or the most uptight of events.

She hesitates briefly by the chair for her companions to reach their seats. Which may well mean her own chair gets pulled out for her by the gentleman. Ixana never was thrilled with that particular gesture - she's quite capable of opening doors and pulling chairs on her own - but considerate ladies give gentlemen their chances to preen, and of course a hostess should not seat herself before the guests even reach the table! Once everyone is in place, she slips into her chair, smoothing her dress as she sits before crossing her hands in her lap.

"My thanks to both for your interest. Word has reached me of several recent disappearances in the area. I should not like to sit idly and allow this to happen. Regrettably, I am of the belief that violence will almost certainly be required to rectify the situation, and this is why the handbill spoke not of 'guards' or 'bodyguards' or 'retainers' but of 'bold adventurers'. That being said, are you both still interested in the opportunity?"

She looks back and forth between the two men as she speaks, trying - and mostly succeeding - to keep from lingering overlong on Ivan. No matter how skilled a combatant she might be, the social arena was definitely the young noblewoman's area of gladiatoral strength. She was not going to allow herself to chill Lars out of the conversation. And it's not like Lars didn't have potential of his own, he was just a little out of his element, competing with Ivan on the jousting field of charm.

 

[Illven]

Aerendyl mewled her eyes rolling back in pleasure as her nipples were suckled. "Oh yes~ I'm being a good little priestess right now aren't I?" She purred, struggling slightly against the bonds, and only getting more turned on as she tested how much they restrained her. "Ti...tighter~" She let out, her nose and eyes burning. "Ti..ti...hingtchu, hingchu, hingchoo~" She let out mewling as the sneeze forced itself out. "So...sorry!" She let out red in the face.

 

[Ampere]

@ChrisGabriel

Yartar Cart and Barge - Hand of Yartar Guildhall

Betty uncorked the vial and moved even closer to the now naked elf. Without breaking eye contact, she poured a small measure of oily liquid into the palm of her left hand. A sly smile quirked the corner of her mouth, as the alchemist crouched down before her captive accomplice.

"Healing salve," she explained and then reached forward very gently to cup Tathariel's sex in her slippery fingers. "contains just a little alcohol, so it might feel a bit cold at the start."

Slowly, Betty massaged the swollen flesh, at first concentrating on the surface and allowing the heel of her hand to softly kneed the elf's puffy mound. Occasionally, one finger might slip slightly, dipping between the captive's lips where they might graze the more sensitive skin beneath.

"How's that?" she wondered, hooking her finger experimentally between those lush lips and just coaxing the tender nub within. "Any discomfort?"

To her trained eye, the elf's exposed skin appeared to be healing, although still red and swollen. Betty smiled to herself, momentarily lost in contemplation. If only she'd brought something a little more wicked with her tonight. With a sigh than only hinted at that deeper longing, the chemist withdrew her hand.

With care, the redhead smeared her fingers over the strange device, adding some more unnecessarily lubrication to the slick metal. Then, as gently as she could manage, Betty began to slide it into Tathariel's waiting pussy.

"Just try to breath normally," she suggested while still trying to find the perfect alignment.

 

[ChrisGabriel]

Yartar Cart and Barge - Hand of Yartar Guildhall

Hissing a little at the first touch on her slightly bruised flesh Tathariel used the distraction to secretly look around checking on the others,and where every one of them was looking. She did not wanted to start using her tricks to partially free her hands if anyone would beable to detect it. After all, she really wanted to show off... and not just her body.

As a wood elf she had very different views on intimacy and sexual partners than humans, maybe even taking it more freely to other kind of elves. Still, having an apothecary stall owner rubbing her nether lips and slipping her the finger too was something of a fast track even for her. At Betty's question, Tathariel focused more on how their connection felt.

"Was better while you stroked." she whispered coyly "Want to kiss it better?" Not trying to follow the insertion of the toy with her eyes, the adventurous elf instead closed her eyes and relaxed, careful not to loosen up her lower legs or feet. "It does not go anywhere that has anything to do with my breathing... Unless you want to push it as deep as possible...." after all, the bruising she had was precisely because something big, however, the material being ivory did gave some interesting new sensations.

The dildo was heavy in her position, and hard, but not harder and heavier than her usual polished woods. Her body was warming up to the idea, and would become hot enough to warm the toy in no time too.

 

[xavierrol]

Yartar Cart and Barge - Hand of Yartar Guildhall

Alma watched with interest to learn what sort of chemistry these two barely acquainted females might have and if any sort of a bond might develop between them. Tathariel seemed, at least at first, much more interested in impressing her fellow thieves, but that was to be somewhat expected. As she asked about how she might be judged as for speed or results. "Speed is not always of prime importance in our line of work my dear, judging when the time is right, is at least as important." She said as if to a young protege, even though the elf may have been pushing three times her age in years, she was still quite young by the standards of elves, and in her experience as a thief. Though clearly very talented. "But in the end, your ability to get free is the only thing that matters. Hopefully you won't spoil our entertainment by doing so too quickly." She offered as something of a challenge to the confident beginner.

Betty seemed quite tender in her ministrations, enough so that Alma wondered if she was falling for the attractive elf. The guild mistress had no idea of the more wicked desires of the alchemist. She doubted the elf required the tenderness she was offered and wondered if Tathariel might actually prefer to be handled more roughly. But that was for the two of them to figure between themselves and she stayed silent. She half imagined the elf breaking the humans heart at some point but it was too early to tell and love was not Alma's strongest suit anyway.

Despite her attempts at being secretive, Tathariel was very much on display with many sets of eyes taking in her every move. That might change as the evening wore on but that was certainly not the case at the moment. She smiled as Tathariel was not at all shy about suggestions for Betty, so far things looked promising between them.

 

[xavierrol]

Wilderness east of Yartar

Grull opens his mouth wide to yell at the clumsy orcs who are upsetting his quality time with his new slave. There is no orcish word for 'careful' so he simply begins to call them "Orc scu..." before his face is smothered in the fullness of Lydia's bosom. She can feel his sharp teeth on her soft flesh, the heavy tusks confining the swell of her breast on either side like book ends around a heavy and overstuffed tome. His tongue roughly drags across her nipple as if tasting the ripe fruit. Lydia's instincts are good as the large orc is sprawled out, using his powerful legs and arms to hold himself secure in the wildly pitching carriage. He makes a somewhat solid nest for her to lie, almost as effective as if he were bound spread eagle.

Orcs not being heavily into kissing, much less being kissed, during your typical pillaging raid, he is somewhat puzzled by the feel of her warm soft lips on his neck. It is pleasant enough, in fact even tickles a little and while difficult to be sure she might even hear a low chuckle from the otherwise fearsome warrior over the sound of creaking carriage wheels and the curses of the orcs outside. He really felt like he should be a more active participant in the training of this new slave but between the need to brace himself and the undeniable pleasure of her lips on his body, he couldn't quite motivate himself to stop her.

An unbiased, outside observer, might reasonably ask just who was raping who here as she began to undue his trousers. He should really gag her before she cast a more dangerous spell but she didn't seem to be able to say all too much as her lips explored lower and lower on his body. He could feel himself growing stiff and hard. He should be mounting and thrusting on her by now but then she cast a most effective spell with her mouth.

"By Gruumsh's One Eye..." He moaned with pleasure as her mouth kissed and polished his throbbing knob. This was much better than being turned into something unnatural and he was effectively gagging her, kinda. Though there were few spells that could make the powerful war chief as weak as he felt at that moment, as if she were some kind of demon, sucking the life force from him. The hum of her moan around his shaft sent shivers from the base of his cock all up his spine.

He was about to reach out, grab her hair to force his cock deep into her throat, when the carriage rocked frighteningly back and forth. He had to return his hand to bracing himself. Then all was still, except for Lydia's mouth bobbing up and down his cock. An orc underling rattled the door. "At the river Boss." Grull didn't move a muscle, his balls ached and his cock throbbed and he could feel his eruption building as she took him beyond the point of no return just as the door was clumsily opened and several curious orcs peered into the carriage.

 

[xavierrol]

Beldabar's Rest - Inn under the Fishyard

Lars practically rolls his eyes as the pretty boy kisses her hand. Seeing her dressed without blades or armor he thought a more fitting greeting would be to throw her over his shoulder and take her back to his room and conduct his business there. He merely grunted in something that may have been agreement when she motioned for them to take a table together. He nearly collides with Ixana as he was prepared to lead the way but then stopped for her, his eyes glued to her shapely ass as she led the way. He took his seat, the one to her right when he got to the table, turning the chair backward to lean on the back as he watched the other two get settled. It made him feel less confined as it was already bad enough being in this underground rabbits warren.

Ivan simply says "after you." He waits for her to proceed to the table and before sitting rests a hand on the small of Ixana's back. "Please, allow me." He says as he pulls her chair out like a proper gentlemen and sliding it so that her exquisite bottom landed in perfect position.

Both men listen intently to her story, Ivan's eyes always catching hers as she looked his way, Lars' typically focused a bit lower. "Of course." Ivan said eagerly as she asked if he was still interested, the details seemingly not of interest to him.

Lars drained the rest of his tankard then held it up so the tavern wench would bring him another. "Not much coin in findin' people, lest there be some kind of reward or ransom. Or are you payin' the freight here missy?"

Insight

Ahlanna rolled a 2 (Lars) and a 16 (Ivan) for insight (via PM).

Lars is an unreadable mass of facial hair and bad attitude, besides the obvious look of eye fucking her she can only go by his words.

Ivan seems to already know much of what she is talking about, as if none of this is a surprise to him. With her limited insight, she only gets a weird feeling about him, nothing very telling.

 

[Ahlanna]

Wilderness East of Yartar

Voluminous red hair dances, teasing across Grull's body as Lydia's head pulses up and down, her warm mouth consuming him time and again. She pauses after eight bounces, to suck as fiercely as she is capable, her cheeks hollowing as her tongue lashes the stiffness trapped helplessly within her. And then she is bobbing again, her pointy elven ears marking her motions in a sea of wine colored hair. This time she bobs only seven times, before her cheeks are again drawn inward, vigorous suction combined with her aggressive tongue to push the captured war chief to new heights. And just when he begins to get used to the sensation, she is moving again, dropping one pulse from each cycle - such that she's always changing her tune one bounce before the orc's instincts will expect it.

Blowjobs were, of course, a tool that cedes all the power and control to the woman. Lydia controls the pace, controls the sensations. And as the carriage slows at the river, she is able to increase her intensity further, with no need to worry about stability. At the sound of the orcs gathering outside the door, her left hand - away from the door - draws a crystal from a pouch, wrapping its chain through her fingers. Head tilting, she drives her tongue into the underside of Grull's orcness as her eyes crane up his body, seeking his own gaze. Pressing into him as he explodes within, his essence combining with the heat and wet of the sorceress' mouth, her tongue grinds against the spurting organ as if milking it, uncaring about the new audience. Or seemingly uncaring, because her crystal-equipped hand twists, invoking the Minor Illusion cantrip ... it's lack of a verbal component convenient under the circumstance.

Once Grull is done, her head lifts. She allows just a single dribble to escape the corner of her mouth, running down her chin, as she glances to the crowd at the door. Thanks to her illusion, her clothes are seemingly in tatters, one of her breasts bearing bruises roughly in the shape of an orcish hand, a similar set at her waist, and a substantial amount of orcish essence seeps down the inside of her thigh from beneath her seemingly ripped skirt. Her eyes wide with seeming fear, she swallows the last trace of Grull's excitement and clutches at the war chief's leg, looking to his raiding party very much like a thoroughly beaten and savagely raped woman. The last thing she needed was his orcs poking fun at Grull and driving him to anger.

 

[xavierrol]

White Winged Griffon - Private Room

As Nareen tightened Aerendyl's bonds from behind her, straining her slender arms just short of what she feared might be painful. The pink haired elf was so cute like that, she almost regretted what she would have to do to her in the morning. But she had all night to enjoy her while she could. She gripped the girl's elbows which pointed straight up, testing the snugness of her knot work. Unless she was a skilled escape artist, she wasn't getting her wrists loose any time soon. She ran her hands down her arms, stroking the elf's underarms to see if she was at all ticklish.

Her hands then cupped the smaller breasts and pulled her back, Nareen's full breasts pressed into the elf's shoulder blades, just barely within reach of her fingertips. She drew a deep breath, smelling the soft pink hair. Then out of nowhere. "Ahchoooo!" The human girl turned and sneezed, her tits bouncing away and back into the elf with the force. She hoped it was merely coincidence, maybe something in the elf's hair soap, certainly her allergy wouldn't be contagious.

 

[Ahlanna]

Beldabar's Rest - Inn Under the Fishyard

"I wouldn't be surprised, given the numbers of disappearances, to find reward potential. That being said, if there was enough interest, the Temple of Tymora here is known to extend sponsorships to adventuring companies ..." Hey, maybe all that finding out random local knowledge might pay off after all, "... and it so happens that I represent the Steelshank Company with references from Baldur's Gate to Silverymoon."

Which is absolutely true. Granted, she leaves out the bit about the organization's diminished capacity, but Ixana really did have some hope of securing funding from the Tymorites. After all, it was a good cause, largely local to the area, Tymora was the goddess of bold risk-taking in the name of helping people, *and* she really did have references.

"What I need to secure such funding is a plan. We have an approach, and an entry, but currently are short a skilled sword arm from being able to describe that as viable, as one of our people is being held by the ruffians. It is unlikely they would believe me a bodyguard ... but either or both of you would certainly look the part. If we can reach the captives, we can add their capabilities to our own ... and then the situation begins to look quite bleak for the miscreants. There should be significant looting opportunities - this is not some two-man operation they are running, they will have assets on hand, and I see no reason why our people should not re-purpose those assets to less harmful aims."

So that's three potential sources of funding, right? Adventurers were always partial to loot. And if they could take the entire stronghold, they might even be able to get some wagon loads out of the place. Certainly a convoy of the rescued women would be the safest way for them to travel back to Yartar. And it was likely Lo'anta wouldn't be the only captive with skills. The more Ixana thought about it, the better it sounded. They could snowball right over the evil-doers' entire organization. And even if they couldn't, they could put a serious hurt on it. They just needed to get to the captives. This planning thing was easier than it looked!

Glancing from one man to the other she adds, "And of course, the captives in question seem to be predominately young women. I'm sure an adventure like this would present the opportunity to substantially burnish one's reputation here in Yartar."

She's not so uncouth as to openly suggest gratitude on the part of the rescuees, but some of that sort of thing was likely. Even if it was just thanks to tales of the dashing adventurers that saved them. Pretty young local women tended to be friends with other pretty young local women, after all.

 

[Ironuyh]

On the Stone Road

Tabitha watched with a remorseful eye as her village's livelihood, and her freedom were being stolen by this elf and her merry band. The ploy was downright despicable! How could this woman put others in bonds so easily and without remorse? The priestess wouldn't get to ask, the gag still seated fully within her mouth.

The goblins would see that now that the priestess was freed of her baggy dress, the woman had a whorish set of proportions. Her chest was prodigious even under the loose clothing, and even more so now as she was bound. She was athletic, but trace amounts of from eating well made her appearance much more curvy than a normal village lass. A real treasure with plenty to grope as she ineffectually struggle, even as she was set up with her face in the floor, and her ass in the air. The most protest she made was a muffle cry of anger at the goblins, but she could hardly put up a fight as her virginal slit and ass were propped up to the goblins.

[Struggle roll was a 5 + 2 = 7]

 

[Illven]

Aerendyl let out a loud squeal of delight and mirth as Nareen stroked the underside of her arm. "Stop~ Stop! I'm ticklish there!" She let out clearly not too bothered by the tickling as she squirmed in Nareen's grasp, struggling against the bonds for the feel of them rubbing against her flesh, then Nareen sneezed, and immediately Aerendyl spun around. "So cute~" She squealed in delight, leaning on her tip toes to nuzzle against Nareen's nose. "Sune, bless you~" She assured her, giving a peck on the cheek, as her eyes drifted down Nareen's frame~

 

[xavierrol]

East of Yartar

Grull roared with passion as Lydia's insistent mouth drew forth from him the most powerful orgasm of his wicked and violent life. It was the first ever bestowed upon him by another, as opposed to him violating his victim. The experience left him drained and more than a little confused. That confusion was compounded when the light entering with the open door revealed Lydia to appear thoroughly ravaged in a way that would make any orc proud. He stared at her for a moment as he caught his breath then looked at the small cluster of orcs peering into the carriage. He had a somewhat puzzled look on his face but recovered fairly quickly.

"Get to work, put her on the barge, drown the carriage and driver." He said, slowly recovering his bearings and sense of purpose. He watched as they reached in to grab the she-elf like female and take her to the waiting barge from which they had launched their raid. He slowly redid his trousers and awkwardly dismounted from the nearly wrecked carriage. As her 'spell' was broken he called after the orcs. "Gag her and put her in my cabin." He took a moment for his knees to regain their strength before striding out confidently to see to the preparations. He should probably have watched her more carefully to ensure she got into no mischief with the other orcs but his mind still wasn't fully clear.

The barge itself was a simple craft and very typical of those transporting many varieties and tonnage of cargo up and down the river. This one was slightly and discreetly modified to have the cargo compartment divided into a variety of cells for their female cargo. Except for at the very back where Grull's cabin which took up the space of 4 cells. It was sparsely furnished but compared to the cells, or sleeping on deck like the other orcs, it was extravagant by orc standards. "Hop to it you scum, we are late!" The orcs carrying Lydia quickly bound her wrists and ankles, stuffed a dirty rag in her mouth and tied it in place then unceremoniously left her on Grull's bed. Her bindings were not particularly well tied due to their haste if she tried to wiggle free before Grull came for her. She could hear him barking orders as the barge slowly got underway.

Mischief

Lydia can attempt to influence the guards or try to escape. She will need a 12 or better with Charisma bonus to make mischief with them. To wriggle free she will need an 8 or better with Dexterity bonus if any.