Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Damsels and Dungeons Mark II - Main Thread

As Alexandria’s underwear felt like they were a few sizes too small for her with the half orc’s pull, she stumbled to the table where she was sitting just a few seconds ago. She barely could hold the table to keep her balance and able to save herself from falling. When she was just side by side with Clara, she realized the situation had started to get out of hand. Especially after the caster started to get involved. Orcs had the upper hand physically already without him and now, the girls were clearly at a disadvantaged spot.

When another farmer boy cried out drunkenly from his seat, her light blue eyes shined with a twisted idea. What they were lacking was some meat shields between them and the orcs. Once again, she reached for the arcane power in her blonde, and meaningless words came out of her lips. However, this time her targets neither members of the party they were brawling with but the farmer boys watching them. Her spell was basically an illusion to let them see her as their beloved daughters, sisters, lovers, or whoever they’ve ever cared the most as she started to cry for their help. “Please... help... please... they.. they are taking me please...” she yelled to the peasant boys. Those who weren't under her spell would see a grim grin on her doll-like face and it was a setup to pull the farmers into the brawl. Alexandria tried to free her skirt from the orc then once she was free, she walked around the table to put it between herself and the half-orc. She had already given a little show to guys with her pretty twin peaks, and she had no plans to show off more.

As she got herself a kind of secure place from the orcs, She analyzed the ongoing little bar fight as well as the other patrons of the One Foot in the Boat. She was pretty much sure the emotional trick she just played on the peasant would work. But still, her mind was already started to think of other possible outcomes as well as other possible solutions if her last spell didn't work as she planned.
 
Fuck.

Nemera was none-too-pleased that the bartender was rather more alert than she had been expecting. Maybe if she had worn something more distracting it might have kept his eyes off her hands … but of course, attention was precisely what she wasn’t looking for.

Then again, if the guy wanted a partnership, he couldn’t exactly let the Hand know about the situation, could he? After all, he’d be stealing too at that point … and his ties to the city were a lot more burdensome than hers. And having a place to base out of wasn’t the worst way to get set up in a new city.

Flashing a hint of smile, Nem breathes as she brushes back a lock of golden hair, “Mm. Someone’s been paying attention. Well, if you’re in for half the proceeds, lemme know which of these marks are worth taking next.” She figured it was probably the dwarves, but maybe the bartender knew something that wasn’t immediately obvious from appearances alone. “I assume your girl is cleaning out the orc-kin already.”

That made a lot of sense – after all, it would explain why the bartender had paid her so much attention, if he was already running a play on the half-orc group, he might have been waiting for someone else to make the grab and Nem had just gotten there first. “Not much of an actress, by the way, though I suppose that’s not the asset you’re paying for, hmm?”

Though the woman did seem to have charmed the two adventurers into intervening. Or maybe they were in on it too? One of them did seem a little shifty. And the other definitely gave off ‘lunky distraction’ vibes. Still, seemed like a lot of shares to pay out for what likely wasn’t a ton of loot.

They’re probably just patsies.
 
Clara's choice was to dance with the vines and free her companion rather than the orc who was no longer checked by Akri's blade. This gave the burly beast free reign to grab a handful of Clara's long black hair with one hand, as the other placed her sword hand in his iron like grip. He tugged her hair back, though he was careful not to snap her pretty neck, though it wasn't hard to imagine he had the strength for it. He squeezed her sword hand with all his might until she had little choice but to surrender her blade or feel her bones crack upon the handle. His mouth went to her exposed throat, he nibbled with his sharp teeth and pointed tusks, but refrained from ripping her throat out for now. He licked and sucked on her skin, tasting her feminine essence. He then pushed her upper body down upon the table, bending her at the waist. He thrust his hips to her ass and Clara could feel the powerful thickness of his orchood beneath his breaches.

The caster made his way to the ladies' table in an almost casual manner. His two companions had things fairly well in hand, with his help of course, but the vines were not a permanent solution to the hooded swordswoman, especially with another hacking away at them. Gronk, the larger orc, soon put an end to the landscaping but not before Akri had gotten loose enough to fall backward. The caster caught her just before she hit the floor. Her backward momentum however caused her hood to fall back, exposing her distinctive ears and features. "Well what have we here?" The caster said in a deep but curious voice as he was quite pleased with his prize. With a word the vines released Akri and with surprising strength she too found herself face down on the table with her ass being pressed against by an eager male.

Alexandria's spell found easy marks with the farm boys who were already half wanting to go play the hero for the attractive adventuresses. They stood and headed toward the pleading maiden who despite her rather skimpy attire reminded them of hearth and home and their duty to protect the virtuous. (That last bit speaking to her effectiveness at casting illusions as to her supposed virtue.) The dwarves however we enjoying the show and intervened. "Ye don't spoil another's prize no laddie." Their leader told them and while the farm boys were too overcome with illusion to stop themselves, the flat side of an axe managed to dispel the illusion enough to give them pause. As they shook it off, they realized the pretty blonde had enchanted them and felt indignant, only rescuing their comrade from the table before retreating to the far end of the inn. With her best chance now dispelled, Alexandria was easily place on the table as well.

Nemera from her vantage point at the bar, now had a rather front row seat to three rather awkwardly positioned beauties laid out as if part of a rather interesting banquet. The Horcs and Caster were forcing arms behind them as if ready to bind them. Each girl at least got to face her new companions in the knowledge that they were so far sharing the same fate in their quest for glory. The bartender seemed little concerned for the plight of the girls one way or the other. It was a rough bar, things happened, and they would likely encounter worse if they went looking for trouble. Better to learn here that adventuring was no place for women. "The dwarves of course." He replied to her question about the marks. "My girl? You mean Blondie there? She ain't my girl but she sure knows how to please a crowd." Nemera might be able to turn the tide of things if she were willing to stick her neck out. Then again, she might be able to help them more once the Horcs were a bit less, aroused. But then the dwarves might have heavier coin purses than the single silver and five coppers the caster had on him.
 
Clara had thought that she could manage to avoid the burly Horc while freeing her brand new companion. And she succeeded, at least for long enough to cut away enough vines for Akri to get free, but then she got caught by her long hair and her sword hand. She cried out and yelped as she was tugged back and the brute squeezed her wrist and hand until she couldn't hang onto her sword any more. When the man began to nibble on her neck and started to lick and suck on her skin, she narrowed her eyes and tried her best to free herself from the man's grasp.

It was to no avail though, as she soon found herself bent over the table her heavy armor making a solid thunk as it landed on the wood. Then came the disgusting feeling of the orc's cock pressing against her ass. Even with her armor as it was, she could still feel him as he pressing against her. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he had planned for her as he began to force her arms behind her back. She really only saw one course of action in the moment.

Taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself down in the moment, Clara let the orc do what he wanted as she waited for the opening she needed. Once she felt that the orc's legs were spread out wide enough, she tried to kick back hard enough to drop him with a well place blow to his crotch.
 
The large orc, Gronk, enjoyed the blood lust of combat, but rarely had he been so aroused by the higher pitched feminine yelp that slipped from Clara's lips as the pain in her hand became more than she could take. Normally it would be a killing stroke applied to the vulnerable throat but not with this one. He could feel the surge of resistance in her fight as she realized it was not a quick death that awaited her or even a stunning blow, he wanted her to feel what was to come next.

It was not a defect in her armor that allowed her to feel the thick bulge of the Horc's arousal. Most armor did not anticipate it's wearer to be bent over a table such as Clara was now positioned, her firm ass vulnerable with only her clothing protecting her. Though the smith who had the rather enviable task of fitting Clara with her armor, had often imagined her in this very position, he did not deem it fitting to armor her ass.

Clara may have had a plan, but if she had noticed the well practiced ease with which her hands were bound, she might have reconsidered. This was not Gronk's first time subduing a feisty female. Her kick was strong enough to have put him down but he had anticipated it so instead she connected with his thigh. It hurt like hell, he grunted in pain. "You'll pay for that." He told her. His thick hand found the top of her breeches and tugged them downward, exposing her cheeks to the other patrons, a cheer coming up from the dwarfs who had the best view. A rough hand caressed the smooth perfect flesh for a moment before lifting and smacking her flesh with a loud crack. The pale flesh jiggling briefly before taking on a perfect pink outline of horc hand.
 
Clara grunted as she felt her kick not land where she had been hoping and then felt Gronk yank her pants down and exposing her ass. "Hey! Don't you even..." She started to threaten before the rough hand started to grope her. "You're the one who's going to pay..." She growled before the hand came down hard on her ass with a hard crack. She let out a cry of pain and jumped up as her ass jiggled obscenely from the blow. While fit and strong, Clara was still quite the shapely woman, it was only due to the fact that she wore such bulky armor that many people didn't get to see that fact.

After the loud slap onto her ass, Clara kicked again, more wildly this time, and with all her strength. Even with her arms bound behind her back, she wasted no time attempting to free herself from Gronk's grasp. She was determined to, at the very least, make this as unpleasant for him as possible if she couldn't manage to turn the tides of the brawl.

Clara definitely was the type to never give up, and if Gronk wanted to try and have his way with her without her getting some blows back in on him, he was going to have to do a lot more than just binding her arms. The kicks would keep coming, and she didn't stop squirming and bucking to keep him off of her and off balance as much as she could. Meanwhile, she was already trying to tug her arms free of her bindings, seeing if there was any way for her to squeeze out of whatever knots he had used.
 
"I'll pay, sure... I've got a little somethin' for ya right now." Gronk said in a mirthful voice as he dropped one elbow on the small of her back, the fingers of that hand gripping her firm ass cheek as he slapped the other so that the dwarves could see the nice pink glow forming on her bum. He casually licked the thumb of his other hand, then the middle finger. "Yep, I got somethin' right here." Squeezing then spreading her ass, his thick thumb pressed against the tight pucker of her back door to the amusement of the dwarves and even the farm boys seemed to be moving for a better view. "The more you pucker the more it will hurt." He told Clara as if trying to share his wisdom with her. He wiggled his thumb, wedging it into her just enough to open her up. His middle finger then danced along her slit, probing and teasing her, seeking her opening as if he had all the time in the world.

Her legs kicked and flayed but he was careful to keep clear of at least the more powerful blows. He would likely have to knock her unconscious, or get a bit more help to use her properly. For now it was just fun to play with her, though he might be able to talk a dwarf or two into helping in exchange for sloppy seconds. From the way they stared at the bare ass, it had probably been a while since they got any that didn't have a beard of its own.

He rode her like an unbroken mare, his weight and her poor positioning working much to his advantage. He soon had both thumb and finger wiggled inside of her. "You keep fighting and I'll have to carry you home like this." He chuckled as he felt the wet warmth of her inner core around his finger and the tightness of her asshole around his thumb. But he wanted more, much more.
 
Akri started as the odds turned to the worse in shorter time than she could imagine. Clara's hair had whipped back, and Akri's was caught with a second of indecisiveness. A second too late, and she found herself accousted in the caster's arms. She glared upwards in fury, not concerned as her hood fell to offer distinctive features. The face of a drow, but much lighter skin than expected and perhaps cleaner than the stereotypes as well. Where it wasn't marred by a rather unpleasant expression. "Have a stick to swat you with," she growled in defensive banter, shortly before she was hauled up to land on the table with an undignified gasp.

The vines had disappeared. She didn't notice in the split second. Though she squirmed fiercely with light pants, her attention was drawn to a wetness at her waist. She cursed. Some potion had given out, leaking against her thigh. Likely just poor chance on her part, and nothing significant enough for danger. There were many accessories, small bottles and extras around her hips, none of which were designed for the rough treatment she was given. Worse, she heard her blade clatter in spite of the newly freed arm. She cursed again, offering a different sort of struggle. Hers was persistent and unwavering, although more predictable and ultimately doomed than Clara's more cautious approach. Mostly she only managed to make her body shift, both from left to right and her ass in likely tantalizing fashion against the member. Scant undergarments and the all-too-thin cloak were all that protected her virtue. In truth, the prospect of assault didn't truly scare her. The circumstances, the way it all came to this so quickly... that set her temper aflame and kept her protest alive in spite of knowing patience was probably her deal.

For a moment she entertained the thought of being the distraction, but it was clear Clara's position was only worsening by the second. Her own was less certain. Akri was determined to make her holder work for every inch, and she remained largely chaste in spite of her position. Still, there was a depressing emotion rising in her bosom as she saw her new companions bent over and handled so quickly. More disheartening was the reluctance of anyone to so much as protest for decency; the few who cared were stopped by dwarves she began to immediately feel a new loathing for. They'd pay for that... someday.

"Bending maidens over tables, I guess you feel so pleased with yourselves," she snarled in frustration, following with a particularly vicious buck. Perhaps it would fail given her severe disadvantage, but she would not resign easily... even if she was coming to accept her virtue would likely come out of this bruised.
 
Clara writhed and bucked as she felt Gronk's elbow on the small of her back and his hands on her ass. Every harsh slap and spank that he gave her only made the girl yelp and writhe even more. However, once she felt his thumb and his finger against her most private places, the desperation truly set in for her. She turned her head over her shoulder and glared at the half-orc for a moment as he told her not to resist. She did so anyway, doing her best to tighten up and refuse entry to his thumb and his finger.

The man hadn't been wrong though. As she bucked and kicked, the fingers kept wiggling their way inside of her, and the attempt at fighting their intrusion only made the entire ordeal hurt more. By the end, she could feel the man's thumb and finger pushed into her core and she was mortified. Not least of which by the fact that she seemed to have become the center of attention and everyone was watching her be sexually assaulted.

"Like I would just let you... do whatever you want to me..." Clara answered Gronk's threat to carry her home like this. She lashed out again with a hard buck and wild kick. "You better hope... I don't see you again after this, or you're going to regret it..."
 
"A pale drow, remarkable!" The caster exclaimed as he got a better look at Akri, his eyes showed he appreciated the value of such a rare find. He could only imagine the price such a creature might fetch, assuming the Masters didn't want to keep her for themselves. In either event, the reward would make this dangerous venture into the city itself worthwhile. But first he had to bind her so she got slammed onto the table with the others and he pried her hands behind her back and began to try and bind them. The caster did not have the overwhelming strength of Gronk and fails to bind her hands so her struggle continues. Hearing her taunt he replies "Pale drow and a maiden, if you speak true you will fetch a fine price." In the ensuing struggle a potion of some sorts breaks, the caster sees the effect before he notices the spill as Akri's shapely ass begins to fade and soon the rest of her does as well. He still has her pinned down, but as she turns invisible it gets more difficult to control her hands. He looks to his comrades for help. "Gronk you can fuck her later, give me a hand." He hisses at the large Horc enjoying the sight of his fingers disappearing into Clara's exposed holes.

Gronk was a bit too focused on his work to notice the caster's struggle with the shapely elf, his quick glance to notice her ears and classify her as 'elf' was all the attention he paid to anything besides the tight twated female he was enjoying. A couple of dwarves decided to take Gronk up on his offer and quickly bound Clara's legs, spreading them wide, each to a separate leg of the table. She would feel them as they quickly stripped the armor from her legs and admired the smooth flesh of her legs with rough hands and course beards as they licked and nibbled at her exposed flesh, eager for their promised turn. The clunk of discarded armor sounding beneath her as her lower half was stripped bare. Gronk was annoyed with the caster's call for help. "Damn you Allanon, I'm busy here." He growled but when he looked over and saw the caster wrestling with what seemed like thin air, he knew he had to help. He reluctantly took his fingers from Clara's openings and nearly crushing her with his weight crawled on top of her, straddling her lower back, with her bare ass now left to the greedy dwarves. He reached blindly for where Akri's head ought to be and tried to seize her neck or hair.
 
Tilting her head slightly to the side, Nemera considers the barman’s response regarding the stripper woman. How curious. It was almost as if …

Where are they going?!

Blinking, Nem spots the farm boys abandoning the field after starting to get their hero on. By Leira’s twisting tongue, what were they thinking? Surely they were too dumb to be cowardly. Besides, adding their number to the three adventurers – well, two adventurers and a feisty strumpet – would surely have taken the caster out of the picture. Then the two half-orcs could be swarmed under. Was it some sort of ruse? They didn’t seem bright enough for that.

I don’t care. The city guard will handle it.

Nodding firmly, Nem tries to focus on her drink, tilting the mug back against her lips. Of course, given her chosen profession, the thief is ever aware of what’s going on in her peripheral vision. Which at the moment seemed to be a lot of struggling on the various tables.

It’s not my problem. It’s not my problem.

Noticing her grip tightening around the mug, Nem sets it down and flexes her fingers. Surely someone else in the tavern was going to hero it up. Any moment now.

Hypothetically speaking, of course, a saavy intervener would have several advantages. The half-orcs and the caster had their backs turned, struggling with their prey, their attentions fully focused. They might protect their sensitive parts from the dangers up front, but would be taken unaware from behind. If only someone would intervene. Surely people weren’t going to stand around and watch the women get raped.

A few more seconds pass, and still no one is helping.

What is wrong with you people?

Thoroughly disappointed in the tavern-goers, Nemera sighs and sets the caster’s coinpurse on the bar. Querying the bartender, she wonders, “Have you any pepper? Or perhaps cinnamon?”
 
Clara was in a bit of shock when she watched and felt the dwarves come over and help the half-orc in restraining her and binding her legs to the table. She tried desperately to pull herself free, but there was no hope in getting free from the bindings, her legs spread wide and the dwarves licked and nibbled at her. "And to think... I used to like dwarves..." She growled as she still tried to buck. However, now with her arms bound behind her and her legs bound to the table, she had absolutely no way to get any leverage to resist.

She groaned and moaned as Gronk's fingers continued twist and push inside of her before she heard the man talk and before she knew what was really going on, she felt the man climbing on top of her, crushing her down onto the table. At least the man's fingers were out of her exposed holes now and she figured she had to take the time that the man was preoccupied with something else to try and get free, even if she wasn't sure exactly how to do that.

She mustered up all the strength she could to try and pull her bindings free. She was always strong, especially for a woman, she wasn't sure if she could simply burst her bindings with pure strength, but trying to wriggle free had not been working.
 
The bartender leveled his gaze at Nemera, "does this look like The Pearl Handled Pipe to you my dear?" As she asked for spices normally associated with much finer establishments that served real food instead of hastily made sandwiches from whatever meat the butcher was soon to throw to the dogs. Though of course pepper did go a long ways towards making such mystery meats palatable to the unsophisticated that were the Boat's main source of revenue. "There is no profit in this you know." He told her as he grudgingly pulled a rough looking pepper grinder from beneath his bar. He had been at least somewhat enjoying the show but as it got more serious he was thinking it might be time to call the guard, but such visits were rarely good for business.

As Gronk straddled Clara's back and began to assist the caster, the dwarves moved in more aggressively. A bearded face pressed against her exposed bottom, rough strong hands squeezed her ass as a hot tongue parted her folds. "She's a sweet tastin' lass." She would hear as he bragged to his friend's eagerly awaiting their turn. The thick whiskers might tickle if she were so inclined to such sensations but his thick tongue began to burrow deeper into her. Clara would hear the sound of a chair sliding across the floor to be used as a step stool. It was unlikely the next dwarf planned to use his tongue.

Clara only manages to give her wrists a good chafing by using her full strength to try to force her way out of the well tied bindings. Rolls a 1 on a d6
 
"Barfights are always more fun from the farthest end of the room", thought Nimina. As she watched the fight grow more and more violent her orangish eyes narrowed with concern. This was all very exciting of course, but with how vile these orcish aggressors seemed to be she could hardly stand by and watch without feeling ashamed. Someone had to do something about this! After all, on any other day the goblin could find herself in any of the other women's positions.

With a stern frown, the small woman rose up from her chair, pulling her brown hood further over her face as she did so. To onlookers, she appeared as a nondescript figure enshrouded within a billowing cloak which concealed her frame, rendering her sex impossible to determine despite her ample charms. Her short stature only made it easier for inquisitive patrons to pass her by, allowing her to easily blend into the crowd.

"Just walk over there and teach that bastard a lesson, Nim!"

The goblin crept forward with ease, one hand wrapped around the hilt of her rapier. One way or another, she was determined to put a quick end to the largest orc's savage display. Ignoring the dwarves for now, she eyed the orc straddling Clara, though her gaze inevitably lingered upon the bound woman's ass, briefly admiring each cheek. "Not now, Nim. Focus on what you're doing here." With a stern look, she tightened her grip on her rapier.

Nimina nonchalantly drew her rapier, holding it close to her body so as to conceal the long, thin blade. She took a deep breath before raising her rapier to her shoulder and lunging forward, thrusting her blade forward at an upwards angle so as to pierce the largest orc's heart from behind.

"Get off of her, you animal!" barked the goblin, "all of you!"
 
“Tell me about it.” Sympathizing with the barman’s protestation regarding profit, Nemera lets out a little sigh as the grinder twists, churning up a handful of pepper. Casting sidelong glances at the progress of the table situation, the thief grinds as much as she dares before it degrades further.

Interesting development on the next table over, the other woman … was she some sort of tiefling? She looked elven, but the color was off. Not drow, not dark enough. Were half-drow a thing? Nem wasn’t exactly an anthropologist. Or elf-o-poligist. So it didn’t really matter. What was more intriguing was she seemed to be casting some sort of invisibility spell, despite using a blade earlier. And that was bothering the caster … and the bigger half-orc too.

Nem calmly walks up behind the caster, between him and the group of disgusting little dwarves crowding towards Clara’s nethers. Casually, her hand flicks out, tossing the pepper at the cluster of greedy dwarven eyes. After this, a flash of boot swishes upwards, taking advantage of the caster’s distraction to kick up between his legs from behind. Hard.

She doesn't bother taunting. In fact, ideally, once her foot is back down she can scamper to the side so that the caster doesn't even know who the strike came from. If she gets really lucky, the dwarves will be too busy with the pepper to notice her either. She wasn't betting on getting them all though. But dwarves are slow, and Nemera is not, so any aggression from the little group of thugs can hopefully be avoided by retreating ... and hopping up on the tables if necessary. Tables made for a pretty good natural defense against shortlings.
 
Whatever the diminutive goblin may have lacked in height and conventional charm, she more than made up for with stealth and determination. She had pierced the heart of the large orc Gronk almost before anyone was even aware she was in the fight. The hole so small and precise, there was nearly no blood, Gronk simply dropped dead upon Clara's upper body. When the large orc fell, the smaller orc was looking right at the goblin. He was shocked for a moment, seeing the tip of the rapier dripping with black orc blood and the lifeless form of his close comrade. "I'll break your bones." He hissed as he lunged towards Nimina intent on revenge. Both roll 3 on d6 Nimina manages to avoid his grasp but can't strike another blow before falling off the table in retreat.

The dwarves may well have been a problem for the goblin if not for the well timed pepper attack. The two flanking dwarves were too busy sneezing and rubbing their eyes which only made it burn more. The one still lapping at Clara's sex screwed his eyes shut tight and kept going, oblivious to the turning of the battle. The caster for his part finally felt he had control over the now partially invisible drow. He was just about to make a hasty retreat when his eyes nearly popped out of his head as his nut sack was dropped kicked. He fell over in pain, clutching his shattered family jewels and groaning in pain. Clara had both the dead large orc and the very alive small one now on top of her as the small orc scrambled to pursue the goblin bitch that had killed his only friend in the world.
 
"Don't sound so shocked," she snarled into the wood. In spite of her predicament, the hardly washed table assaulted her nose. More pressing was the caster's attempt to pull her wrists across each other. Knowing that would be the end, she became extremely non compliant. If the glance sideways was any clue, not only were people not going to help, they were going to make things worse. Her skeptical attitude quickly became loathing; for the humans, the dwarves, everyone in the establishment. But she had no time for hate, not at the moment.

She wasn't aware of the transformation she'd accidentally started, and so she simply assumed her struggles were working. How well for how long she didn't know, but logic had given way to pure reflex and survival. She enjoyed the losing game of her captor, but her heart pounded intently as she knew the game would be up the moment he had help.

She was about to kick upwards before the weight above her began to slacken, then fall away. She rolled off the table in an undignified sprawl, eyes immediately darting to review the changing situation. Peril seemed to change very quickly. Though she wanted to help her new companion that was clearly being molested by the foul orc, she was much more interested in finishing the job. Her foot darted out to give him an extra blow; the jewels were at an awkward angle, but she'd make her own offering before standing up and pulling her outfit together quickly. She made a strange sight with her partial translucence, but she was ready to finish the job with the last assailant still having his way.
 
Clara gasped as she felt the warm tongue and hands starting to tease and toy with her. "Hey... get your face away from me!" She cried out. She grunted and bucked her hips as much as she could back into the dwarf to try and get him off of her. She heard the chair scraping along the floor and knew that whoever came up next wasn't planning on using their mouth on her. She had to do something, and was about to try and get free again when she felt the orc on top of her slump. His weight became dead weight on top of her, and she knew the man was either dead or knocked out. Someone had come to help them out.

However, the huge orc was still on top of her, keeping her pinned down on the table and her legs were still bound and spread leaving her with no chance of freedom, and then she felt the new body scrambling on top of her. It seemed as though a brawl was happening around her, but she couldn't join in on it. Hoping that she could move the weight that was on top of her, she tried to work herself back up off the table, if she could at least get back to standing rather than being bent over, she might be able to find a way out of the situation she was in, or at least see what in the world was going on around her. She could feel the dwarf still lapping at her pussy, and she had to fight to keep from moaning and giving the man any extra pleasure out of what he was doing to her.
 
Well things seemed to have turned quickly. Only the one half-orc seemed in any condition to do bodily harm. Even better, none of the combatants seemed to have focused on her. Thanks of course, to Nemera’s skillful planning and tactics, if she does say so herself. Not that she would, that would seem arrogant. She’ll just think it instead.

Between the goblin, the elf-of-indeterminate-origin, and that stripper from earlier, Nem was pretty sure the remaining half-orc was handled. The woman on the table still needed help, of course, and the dwarves would recover eventually, so adding the stranger on Nem’s side of the melee seemed like a reasonable next step.

Stepping forward, she begins trying to leverage the dead half-orc off Clara. More importantly, she tries to swipe his coinpurse in the process. It's a lot easier when they're dead. Just need to stand in the right place to conceal it from the room.

What? It’s not like he needs it anymore.

Maybe she can even nudge the body to fall on one or more of the dwarves. Despite her somewhat average strength, the fact that he’s dead and the dwarves are either semi-blinded or distracted makes her feel there’s a reasonable chance.
 
The smaller Horc, now the only real threat to the girls, leaps after the wretched goblin with the wicked blade. His impact knocks her to the floor as he sprawls out as well, unable to get a firm grip of the she-goblin he scrambles to his feet. Both rolled a 2 Her momentum takes out the feet of one of the dwarves who wasn't paying attention as he was fiercely blowing his nose from the pepper. The fallen dwarf gives the goblin a small buffer but he recovers quickly and is ready to pounce though he looks warily towards the pale drow on the floor near her lost sword.

The caster still holds his injured pride though he is becoming aware that things have turned poorly for them and starts to look towards the door but isn't quite ready to take to his feet.

Despite the rather focused dwarf still feasting at her nether regions and with a valiant feat of strength, Clara manages to lift herself off the table enough for the dead weight of the large orc to begin to slide off of her. The avalanche of dead horc takes the grazing dwarf by surprise and he lands on his ass with 20 stones worth of dead weight landing on his belly with an oomph! Clara is still bare from the waist down and each ankle is bound to the table, but compared to her previous position, she is a bit more freeish.

Nem's nimble fingers may or may not have helped drop the Horc off of Clara but they definitely claimed another coin pouch which she will later find contains 3 copper coins, several bones from a small mammal and what looks like a collection of ear wax rolled into a ball.

The dwarves seem content to try and free their pinned comrade from beneath the dead Horc. Nim is in some peril but the others appear safe for now, the farm boys and the bartender appear content to watch the show. Though the farm boys seem a bit more shocked about the dead Horc than the Bartender.
 
Clara tried her best to get her bearings back. With her arms still bound behind her back and her legs bound to the table, she can't do much in terms of fighting or helping with the situation, but at least she's not still bent over the table. It seemed she had the little goblin woman had come to their aid, something she had not been expecting. However, now she had earned the ire of the remaining Horc.

She watches the man chasing the goblin around near her and trip and fall over one of the dwarves who had been planning to take advantage of her along with Gronk. If and when the man got in range of her, in order to try and help out the woman that had helped her, Clara would unleash as hard of a headbutt as she could, in an attempt to knock the last assailant out of the fight as well.
 
Nimina was somewhat shocked that her plan had worked, flawlessly at that. The largest of the group's oppressors was dead, and the tides of battle were changing in her favor! Unfortunately, the goblin wasn't able to celebrate for long as the smaller orc was coming for her. "Stay back, wretch!" barked the goblin, gesturing madly with her bloodied rapier. Unable to land a blow with her blade, NIm stumbled in place.

It was just enough of a mistake for the remaining orc to capitalize upon. As he lunged forward and knocked her aground, the hood of her cloak flew backwards, revealing her face. She was beautiful even in the midst of combat, with soft features and full lips. Sparkling black paint and matching eyeshadow flashed in the light below and around the goblin's wide eyes, causing her jade-colored skin to stand out in stark contrast.

A bright platinum piercing could be seen set in the goblin's slightly pointed nose, and her clean, crimson hair flickered like fire, all set and perfectly styled to fall like water over her freckled face. Each lock of bright, auburn hair was expertly decorated with colorful feathers and parted down the side, exposing a pair of large, pointed ears, set with piercings of colorful metal and carved bone.

Though the rest of her body remained hidden, Nimina was already panicking. "Shit, get off of me!" As she scrambled to her feet, she attempted to stab once more with her rapier!
 
The smaller horc glanced about and saw the tide of the battle turning against him. Seeing the killer of his comrade for what she was, he snarled in contempt and lust. He easily picked her up and slung her over his massive shoulder, holding both her ankles in one green hand. The caster was picking himself up slowly from the floor, the Horc paused briefly and unceremoniously grabbed the back of the caster's cloak and lifted him to his feet and both made a quick exit to the floor. Unless someone stopped them, their savior was going to disappear like so many other helpless damsels.

Finally feeling bold enough now that the danger was gone, a couple of the sober farm boys venture forth to untie Clara from her spot, though not before admiring her shapely bare behind. "Let us help." One said chivalrously, as if he had just braved fire and flood to rescue her. Clara can either go in immediate pursuit naked below the waist or she could recover her lower clothes and armor and leave the brave goblin lass to her fate.
 
The drow was briefly inspired by the turn of battle. Then the 'orc' acted. Like the beast he was, taking the smallest of them - a goblin? - before making a bolt to escape.

After what they just did, the last thing she would do was just let it happen. They damn well weren't taking anyone, not even a goblin. In an impulsive decision she launched herself forward. The caster never managed to subdue her properly, and now she itched for the brawl. Not my best choice, was her last thought as jumped the beastly figure, her petite frame scrambling as one arm sought the horc's neck and the other awkwardly twisted around the goblin's shoulder. Her knees were next to rise, attempting to find claim. What was she doing? She wasn't sure; her fingers clawed to distract, and she fairly threw herself in an attempt to knock the captor's balance while there was still enough in the way to bump against. With any luck they'd all fall for a tumble. Without it she vaguely realized it would only take a minute of focus to knock her down or worse. Chance taken!
 
Niminia was nearly lost but at the last moment, the pale drow jumped upon the Horc's back and tried to repay the favor of the goblin. For a stride or two, it looked as if the Horc might simply have 2 prizes instead of one as he headed for the door. However Akri's momentum was just enough to shift his path so that he struck the edge of one of the heavy tables, his momentum causing him some pain and to stumble. Akri rolls 4 to the Horc's 3 It was just enough to dislodge Nim as both girls tumbled to the floor with the goblin sitting on the drow's face.

The horc with the caster close behind disappeared out the door, leaving their dead comrade behind.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom