Her Exodus (meomeo & Vertigo)

[Vertigo]

Aurelius slid off the back of his dun colored horse in a clearing not a mile away from the village he and Clarie were going to start their investigation. He had taken her after a quick interview yesterday when he happened to be passing through town. All he had to see were her breasts and legs to know that she would make a fine traveling companion.

Thus far he was playing it much straighter than that. He had set her to do small tasks around the camp and vaguely mentioned where they were going today. Now was the time to explain why.

"You wanted to know the life of an adventure, Clarie?" He asked rhetorically, icy blue eyes glinting. "Here's how it goes. There's a bounty on the head of the Sandy River Gang."

The alleged hero reached within the hem of his tunic and removed a rolled scrap of paper bearing the mark of the region's Justicar. It listed a roster of crimes. Illicit Enslavement; Murder; Robbery; Murder; Murder; Murder; Arson; Murder; Smuggling; Trafficking Illicit Goods; Coercion; Illicit Slavery; Murder; Robbery; Robbery; Robbery. The list went on in a similar vein. "I've asked around. There are six of them in the gang. They made their headquarters in the Blessed Goat tavern for some time.

"They typically make money through murder for hire, highway banditry and forcing people into slavery. Typically witnesses, the families of their targets, even just unlucky folk.

"We're going to ask some questions. They haven't in this village for some time, so it should not set too many tongues wagging. I need you to keep your head about your shoulders, Clarie. These are serious people. They're going to come off like thugs and buffoons--because they are--but it also thugs and buffoons who harm most of the people in the world.

"So follow my lead."

In the blink of an eye Aurelius' gravitas evaporated. He removed his sword from the hilt on his side and set about oiling. The blade was not a hero's blade, not like the flashing silver thing in the few stories the bards sang about him: it was a utilitarian piece of steel. The blade was perhaps half again the length from his fingertips to his elbow with a blood groove down the middle. It had two sharp sides and a pointed tip, good for both hacking and stabbing. Its hilt was wrapped in leather that had been squeezed so hard it conformed to his grip.

The rest of him was less plain in appearance. His tunic was dark green with a golden hem at the bottom in a geometric pattern. His boots were buckskin dyed black, tied at the front with thick leather laces. Silver bracelets adorned each wrist, a matching silver bauble around his neck.

His features were wind cut. Aurelian's body was just as thickly muscled as it needed to be to run, jump, fight from horseback and on foot. There was very little about him left over to inefficiency except, perhaps, his vices; of which young women were one. Even ones some fifteen years his junior, such as Clarie.

In due time he slid the sword back into his scabbard, mounted his horse and kicked it. "Come on, Clarie! Let's get you some experience."

 

[meomeo]

Clarie let out a sigh of relief as Aurelius halted their march. March... that's the right word for it. She could feel the muscles in her inner thighs and back and neck scream out in agony, and it took some effort for Clarie to restrain from doing the same herself. The horse-riding and the camping on the ground will take some time to get used to. She missed the comforts of the Academy. But alas, the higher-ups at the place decided it would be beneficial to their would-be graduates to have a taste of life outside the (literal) ivory tower, heck, they actually made it a prerequisite to graduation. So here she is.

Clarie decided to remain on the back of her freckled grey horse as Aurelius, her mentor, briefed her. She feared her legs would give out if she were to stand on her own. Meanwhile, storm clouds gathered in the horizon. From afar, she could spot wispy smoke rising from the village.

Murder, banditry, thugs... she nodded her head at these words. The gravity of their task did not escape her, but surely Aurelius, almost an urban mythical figure from her research, will handle the heavy-lifting? She did mention to him that she had specialized as a Healer, and in fact is considered rather proficient at that for a mage of her age. But her skill in the other disciplines are nothing to write home about. She hoped he hadn't counted on her to combat these unsavory characters... at least not on her second day.

Actually, did he even ask for a demonstration of my powers at the interview? Clarie thought to herself. But after attending so many of them in the last week, she couldn't be sure, so she shrugged it off.

Nevertheless, Clarie readied her own weapon, a painted wooden staff almost as tall as the wielder and adorned with a blue gemstone the size of a goose egg. The young mage, all 5'4'' of her, cut a slender figure on the top of her mount. She was dressed functionally in a body-length hooded black robe over dark-colored pants and boots. From the narrow feminine chin and strands of golden locks peeking out under the hood, to the hint of a curvaceous figure beneath the silken robe, one could discern a pretty young girl underneath. And indeed, with her misty green eyes and fair complexion beneath the hood, she would probably win a poll on the most attractive mage in her class... if such things were ever allowed.

The passed by the outskirts of the settlement now... and it wasn't a pretty sight. The roads are unkempt and muddy, the walls grimy with soot, abandoned carts and wheelbarrows litter the roadside. Its residents, similar in appearance to their surroundings, would look up at the pair with wary, distrustful eyes and immediately avert their gazes. Whilst Clarie did not expect singing streams and children running in the fields, she took an immediate dislike to the place and involuntarily gripped her staff harder.

"They don't seem very welcoming..." she muttered over the hooves so only Aurelius could hear.

 

[Vertigo]

As green as Clarie was, she was thus far a good mentee. She had palpably not said anything overtly stupid in the last twenty-four hours and had been willing to gather firewood. Neither had she complained over much about sleeping on the ground. All told, she appeared fairly game for the life style Aurelius lead.

However, if she had complained he would have written it off. It's not like he kept the young mage around for her skill set, intelligence or stoicism. He just need a nice young piece of ass to break in and work with.

In response to her trailing assertion, the undertone of which seemed a little like profligate anus clenching, the alleged hero nodded. "Better safe than sorry. This is the kind of place where people live and die over chickens. Atop that, there's no sense of law, and people don't ask questions, both of which attract a certain element."

He couldn't help but shoot Clarie a roguish wink, "We're part of that element."

Having already received directions, Aurelius cut as close to a straight line as he could in the weaving dirt paths and mud pits that constituted "streets" in this village. The tavern was a ramshackle thing with a thatch roof that was bald and bowed in some places. For all that the mercenary tossed a stable boy a piece of silver--an outrageous amount--and impressed upon the twelve year old the importance of assuring absolutely nothing happened to their mounts in hissing whispers.

Once in the stables he turned to Clarie, "You can keep your staff, but you're going to have to lose the robe. You'll make the idiots uncomfortable. We have to make them comfortable if they're going to talk to us."

 

[meomeo]

The village somehow managed to look worse further in. The paths were winding, cobbled and stretched out like a maze. The whole settlement teemed with idle men up to no apparent good. The storm clouds, which were almost directly above them now, did not help the issue either.

Clarie's knees buckled and threatened to give out as her boots landed on the stable floor, but stayed on her feet she did. Too much time with my legs split on horseback... she thought.

Naturally, and for apparent reasons, the need to remove her robe made Clarie skeptical. The robe was not a traveling garment worn over normal attire, but part of her getup as a Mage of the Academy, complete with its insignia sewn into the edge of the sleeve. But Clarie had no reason to doubt Aurelius had the quest's, and her's, best intentions in mind. And after striving to please and impress her mentor for the last twenty four hours, it would be a pity if she second guesses him at their first task together. Her eagerness to please made her hold her questions.

Besides, there is something in Aurelius' tone, his whole authoritative demeanor... that made the little girl in Clarie whisper just obey him.

So Clarie said "Umm... alright." and untied the robe near her collarbone, before gracefully lifting it above her head. Over her torso she wore a linen sleeveless milky-white bodice. The garment was a very loose fit and unbridled at the hem, leaving copious space between the fabric and her skin, so Clarie would have to be very careful lest she wishes to expose her petticoat underneath. Over her legs she wore breeches of charcoal black. But they were not your normal riding breeches. They were of a new-found stretchy material fashionable amongst young women in the capital nowadays. The fabric was skin-tight, perfectly outlining the contours of her long skinny legs. A little too revealing, Clarie thought, but not the worst. Some of the more... adventurous girls in the Academy only wore their knickers under their robes.

As Clarie straightened out her strawberry blonde hair, she found the stableboy blushing and hurriedly looking away. The boy must have caught the stretch of flawless flat tummy when she stretched to remove the robe. He looked as if he hadn't seen a pretty girl in ages... Clarie gave him a warm smile, the little guy deserves more than a piece of silver.

Just then the doors to the Blessed Goat creaked open, and a drunken lout tumbled out, spewing obscenities at nobody in particular. As far as Clarie could see, the place was already packed and loud, even though it's only late afternoon...

 

[Vertigo]

It took a certain amount of self control not to push Clarie up against the wall and more fully explore her body once she disrobed. Aurelius had a hint of how appropriately firm and supple the young mage was, though he had not had this good a look until now. He failed to even provocatively whistle at the young woman as she removed her bulky Academy robe.

The display of flesh beneath her knees, the smooth turn of her calves beneath her breeches, was itself exciting. The warrior for hire cast a glance at the blushing stable boy. There were three primary differences between the two of them when it claim to Clarie: Aurelius was controlled enough not to blush, the stableboy didn't have a clue what he'd do with the journeying Mage if he got the opportunity and Aurelius had a plan on how to get where he wanted with her.

"That'll keep them off guard, Clarie." Aurelius gave a decisively approving nod to the woman before exiting the stables and entering the rowdy tavern.

Once you got inside it made perfect sense why the Sandy River Gang would spend their time in this tavern. It was utter chaos. Along the bar, in this order, there was: a bet between three men over who could spew most offensive invective, a woman clearly stroking a man's member beneath his pants, four teenage farm hands drinking and betting over arm wrestling, one man gleefully choking the life out of another.

The rest of the bottom floor was in a similar state of disarray. Tables had mismatched legs, chairs were poorly assembled, the smell of the hay on the floor was equal parts bitter, stale and moldy.

Nobody would even notice an outlaw gang in a place like this when there were so many other competing vices to drink in.

Aurelius slipped his arm around Clarie's torso, fingers only lightly touching her, though he gave the impression of leaning on her. His face reddened as he held his air in, then took several quick breaths. In a few moments he had gone from looking stone sober to that of a man with a solid buzz on. "C'mon, Clarie, follow my lead."

They zigzagged through the disorder, carefully avoiding getting embroiled in any of it. Though they travelled seemingly at random it was clear there was and end goal in mind, particularly after Aurelius grabbed two pitchers of beer from a bar wench and paid her for more drinks for the table they were now zeroing in on. Four men sat there already, with two empty chairs opposite each other.

Aurelius motioned for Clarie to sit in one them while he thudded down on the other unexpectedly, sloshing some of his beer onto his wrist. "Ho there, fellows!" He said, just as the bar wench returned with four more pitchers. "I'm Oran and this is the girly." No name for her, of course. "Who might you fellas be?"

The men introduced themselves. There was a ginger bearded man, Kalvin; a weasely looking man, Drummond; a callow youth, Uri; a muscular man given a bit to fat, Dorin. Clarie found herself square between Kalvin and Dorin, while Aurelius was between Uri and Drummond.

"Why, what's a fancy looking lass with a big ol' stick like that doin' at a place like this?" Kalvin, apparently the most talkative, asked Clarie.

Aurelius cut in quickly here, "Oh, a little of this and that and th' other. Why, we were wondering what we might do for a little work."

Somehow, in the ensuing discussion, Kalvin's hand found itself on Clarie's leg, idly moving in circles that held an apex at the inside of her thigh before moving out to the top of her leg. In the meantime, their drinks kept on getting refilled and they all were getting more and more red in the face.

"Tell us about yourself, lass," Dorin said, turning to Clarie at one point.

 

[meomeo]

Clarie was no stranger to the so-called tavern scene. She still fondly remembers the heady nights of sneaking out with her girls to the Olden Squire Club, where the precocious young mages would dance with off-duty guardsmen and get hit on by rich trader's kids. But needless to say, the Older Squire Club was a far more upscale establishment... and The Blessed Goat is another beast altogether. The raucous din and uncleanliness made her skin prickle, not to mention the reek that absolutely permeates this place. How do these folks even stand it? Clarie couldn't wait to wrap up this reconnaissance task... and she fought hard to not wrinkle her perky nose.

As she weaved through the floor, Claire was reminded of her visit to the Royal Zoo. Half of the population spoke in a dialect unknown to her. Oh look! There's a man eating his meat from a hook where his hand would have been! And on the left, a bald man with a tattoo-ed head! Oh my a wild-eyed lass with her breasts hanging out! But no sooner did Clarie also realize... she was likewise a zoo beast to them. People stared and ogled. No one here shares her smooth skin and silky golden locks. And while the women here are attractive in their own ways, Clarie's delicate, angular beauty was unique in The Blessed Goat, possibly this village as a whole...

Clarie was starting to feel real uneasy from all the attention. Please just do whatever you have to do and get out of here Aurelius... oh don't sit down!

Clarie's mind descended into confusion as she squished in between Kalvin and Dorin. Aurelius seemed to know the four men... and then he seemed not to. Comebacks and putdowns were traded at a blistering pace. Clarie always prided herself on being a quick-witted, worldly girl but she is resigned to giggling along and nodding here. They were using so many slangs anyways it was difficult to keep up. Things spiraled. The beer here was surprising decent and flowed easy down the throat... and before she knew she was on her second pint. She felt herself flushing up and fanned herself at one point.

Aurelius was in the midst of spinning a tale when Clarie looked down and saw the large hand coping, fondling, her thigh. It was so warm in here and she was so engrossed she hadn't noticed it before! Oh the heavens... Clarie hoped her inaction hadn't been taken as an acceptance, or worse, encouragement. She quietly and firmly pushed the hand away and tried to put some distance between herself and Kalvin... but only succeeded in nudging up against Dorin's bulk. And then she realized, with both men being almost a head taller than her sitting down, they could have looked down her bodice whenever they wanted throughout all this time. And she was sporting considerable cleavage with her arms pinned against the men. Embarrassment washed over her... and she really blushed, just in time for Dorin to address her directly.

She stole a glance at Aurelius. Silence. Quick, Clarie, quick! "Ermm... I am... an apprentice with the village shaman at... the next village. And, yes... just passing through and looking for some work here." There was a lull which made Clarie even more nervous, so she reached out for her beer... only to knock over Kalvin's and spilled the drink all over his lap.

Oh. Heavens.

 

[Vertigo]

His teeth clenched when she stammered out a confused story. While Aurelius had kept things not just purposefully vague, but redirected every serious question with a the kind thing a half drunk hill person would say, Clarie could not even control her diction! Now there were so many loose threads to pick up: who was the shaman in the next village? What was the next village called? How many of these same men came from the next village?

Luckily, for it could not have been design on her part, Clarie's quasidrunken clumsiness played out for their total benefit. Kalvin jumped back and up while the rest of the men burst into uproarious laughter. As Dorin twisted to get a better look at the swearing Kalvin his bulk pulled on her loose white bodice, twisting the low cut of her milky-white top to come tantalizingly close to reveal one of her nipples.

Realizing the opportunity at hand, Kalvin poorly faked a stumble and his hand plunged into Clarie's shirt, roughly grasping her soft breast. He pulled, unleashing the pert orb from her hem to expose her.

"Oh, lass, I'm quite sorry!" Kalvin shouted as he slipped his hand off of her breast and then hurriedly shoved it back into her bodice. While Clarie looked away Dorrin "unintentionally" nudged his pint of beer, splashing it against her top. The fabric was sticky and hid nothing, pressed against her torso.

In the uproar that followed the already pale looking Uri was frozen while Aurelius spoke in his ear. As Uri collapsed, Clarie's mentor stood up. "Now, men, you have to treat Clarie with some kind of respect." Some sort of transformation had occurred: Aurelius was stone sober and Uri was stone dead with a knife in his back.

Kalvin and Dorrin looked confused in a frozen moment before Drummond let out a scared yell. Uri was leaned over with the hilt of a dagger visible jutting out of his spine. With Clarie's training she would likely be able to note that the blade would have intersected the young man's aorta: a lethal blow that unleashed blood from the body's single largest artery.

In the next minute Aurelius gave the kind of display songs had mentioned about him. With a seemingly perfect economy of motion he stepped on top of the rickety table, pushing off of Drummond's neck with a harsh blow from his left forearm. Blood spewed fountain like from the sharp nosed, big toothed man's mouth, spraying Dorin.

Aurelius stepped forward to stomp on Kalvin's face as he slowly stood up before spinning, drawing his sword and stabbing Dorin in the eye with his sword. As the big man's corpse sprawled backwards Aurelius stepped forward, grabbed Clarie's shoulder and directed her back towards the stable. "Walk quickly, but don't run. Once we get on the horses gallop north. I'll be right behind you."

 

[meomeo]

Clarie was just about to say every word of apology in her vocabulary. But just as quickly Kalvin's weight was on top of her, his oversized, calloused hand toying and exposing her tender globes. Next thing, Clarie felt an unpleasant chill down her front as the fabric became soaked with beer. She panicked, he was too large for her to do anything, and her instinctive "No..." got stuck in her throat. She was going for her staff when the blood started spewing.

A whirling of steel and crunching blows. More blood. "Walk quickly, but don't run. Once we get on the horses gallop north. I'll be right behind you."

Clarie hyperventilated. "Yes master." she panted. The curious choice of words, coming out of her lips subconsciously, was lost on her until much later. She rose to her feet unsteadily; and all at once Clarie felt the earlier fatigue in her legs, and that, indeed, she had became quite tipsy. Good thing the door is just over there, she thought, and made her way towards it in double time, taking care not to run.

The bodice's fabric was not meant to hold against men like Dorin and Kalvin roughhousing on it. The damaged neckline now hung so low it would make whores blush. Clarie's small nipples strained against the wet linen like twin tips of fire pokers. Practically topless as she retraced her steps. And Clarie was too high on adrenaline, too panicked, to care for her modesty...

Three-quarters of the way now. Suddenly something caught Clarie's right boot. Her world tumbled, and she went face first into a coarse place which smells like coal. She pushed herself up, only to come face to face with a smug-looking bearded man. Clarie's heart skipped a beat. Great-looking eyes, disarming smile, handsome in a weathered way. She had stumbled right into the lap of a coal miner, and not a bad-looking one at that. Rather him than a table corner. Clarie offered an apology and tried to regain her footing...

"Eeeasy there doll. Oh look what we 'ave 'ere, boys, it's that posh girlie." Clarie felt herself absolutely manhandled, effortlessly flipped over and ended up sitting on the miner's lap, pinned there by his vice-like forearm. "'ere to join us for a drink haven't ya? You poor thing, all wet an' all. P'haps we can help ya dry ya teeny shirt, doll."

Uproarious cackle from the table. What is it with the lecherous, firm-armed men in this tavern?

Almost at the same time a voice rose above others from the other side of the room. "Oi. Something's happened to Uri. Oi!"

Every muscle in Clarie's body came to life, and she raised her staff and muttered. Only needs to stun the miner for half a second... I can do it...