Llisanya and Diamander arrive in New Halas. Falco proves himself but still fucks up.
The Prize of Prexus was moored along the quay in Halas Harbour. Due to the huge number of ships already in port, the Wrath of Ro was rafted alongside the Prize. With the sailing season near over and the reluctance of merchants to risk their wares in pirate infested waters, there was more than the usual number of ships sitting idle and empty, tied to the quay or riding at anchor. There were too many for sale. Prices were low.
Captain Coranis had a few salty words to say when she realized that the Wrath of Ro would not be selling for the price it should be worth. Though there were buyers crossing over the deck of the Prize of Prexus to eagerly inspect the Wrath of Ro it was obvious most were ‘looky-loos’ just wanting to see a pirate ship and hear of the battle. They were impressed to hear how few crew were lost in the fight but no one made an offer of purchase the Wrath of Ro.
Passengers were, of course, required to vacate their cabins until the day of re-embarkation. Despite the cold and the snow, neither Llisanya nor Diamander minded the walk as they hiked up the steep, icy path from the harbour, through the mountain tunnel and into the City of New Halas proper. There was always a freedom one felt when the voyage was over and you were back on land and able to walk more than sixty feet in one direction.
After nearly two weeks aboard ship both were feeling the world swaying under their feet. “The sensation of being on a rolling deck will eventually disappear” Llisanya had promised Diamander but they both staggered foolishly trying to accommodate a deck that no longer moved as it had for the past many days.
Llisanya lead the way to the White Lodge. She declared it the most comfortable Inn in New Halas. What she meant by ‘comfortable’ was an Inn outside the actual City Limits where anyone following you along the deserted path would not be able to hide in a crowd while doing so. Further, the owners neither asked too many questions of their guests nor liked anyone else asking too many questions about their guests. Even the Vårðr did not come by much during their patrols.
Diamander asked for two small rooms but Llisanya insisted on a single room for both of them. “Your Uncle was very clear” she told Diamander right in front of the unjudging desk clerk “I am to be available for you.”
Declining to try the fare from the small dining room at the Lodge, they left their bags in the room and headed back into town to eat at Llisanya’s favourite Tavern. On the way, they paused at the famous statue of Erollisi Marr like typical tourists. The image of the goddess, so very beautiful, regarded them in stony silence.
Never much of an expert on Gods and Lore, Diamander idly asked “Is there really any difference between Tunare and Erolissi? I mean, both are Goddesses of Love.”
Of course, Llisanya knew the huge differences between the two Deities but she kept her answer simple. “Tunare wants you to fuck me all night; Erolissi wants you to fuck to me once, kiss me good night and marry me in the morning.” As they walked on, Llisanya added “Tunare is why I get so much silver from you men.”
They found a mailbox and dropped a short note to the Marshall to say they had arrived safely. Diamander intended to submit a long report but Llisanya was more aware of the precautions one needed to take when using the Mail Service. “They are famous for their speed of delivery but infamous for their lack of confidentiality” she warned Diamander. “Say nothing except that we are safe in New Halas.” She knew the Marshall preferred more detailed reports in person.
They entered the Raven’s Roost Tavern. Llisanya had recommended it as the best food in New Halas. Once they sat down the ground was pitching a little less. Llisanya picked up the menu sitting on the table. She gave it a very brief perusal then handed it to Diamander. “Looks like the menu hasn’t changed” she told Diamander “I recommend the Fårikal.”
A female Dwarf appeared at their table and simply stared at the two foreigners. If she had a smile of welcome on her face it was hidden behind her full beard.
Llisanya could see it was Gerta under all the facial hair. She was the no-nonsense, very taciturn Daytime Manager. If you ever wanted to confess your deepest darkest secret to someone you could tell Gerta. As if pathologically resenting anyone benefiting from the most trivial tid-bit of knowledge, Gerta never volunteered a single bit of information about anything if she could help it. “A mead for me” Llisanya told her in Dwarven “My friend needs a bock ale, please.”
Gerta nodded, scowling as if it was going to kill her to actually divulge to the Barkeeper what these two southerners had ordered.
Instead of immediately fetching their beverages, Gerta silently looked at the menu now lying in the middle of the table. Not wanting to look unsophisticated Diamander told the Dwarf in Common “Looks like we both want the Fårikal, please.” He pronounced ‘Fårikal’ badly.
Gerta nodded again. She had never seen the Human before, but the little Half Elf with the big eyes looked a bit familiar. As a return customer, it seemed the pretty Ayr’Dal knew enough to warn the Human not to order the Hákarl. Most southerners stupidly ordered the Hákarl because it was the first thing listed on the menu. They then ordered the Fårikal after they got one whiff of the stinking dish that was Hákarl. Gerta departed, glad she would not need to be throwing out two perfectly tasty plates of Hákarl.
Llisanya glanced over to the sauna. She was disappointed to see it was not operating at the moment. No doubt it would be fired up later when the crowd showed up. Maybe she would come back then for a steam.
Diamander asked Llisanya an important question “What is Fårikal?”
“Salted lamb ribs.”
That did not sound too bad. Diamander was relieved he had not ordered something worse. He had heard of a particularly foul smelling dish made of rotten sharkmeat. Without Llisanya’s familiarity with northern cooking he might have ordered that. He wanted a decent meal and a few hours to unwind before he needed to go find his ex-boyfriend and sort things out. Rotted shark would ruin his evening.
He and Llisanya sat quietly, enjoying the peace and quiet without all the sounds of a ship-at-sea filling their ears. He pondered how he would handle his meeting with his former lover. Difficult though the conversation might prove, Diamander was sure his old beau would see reason once he was reminded of his non-disclosure agreement concerning Diamander’s recent homosexuality.
There was an equally difficult conversation he needed to have with Llisanya. He did not know how best to begin. He looked at Llisanya, waiting for her mead and lost in thought. “Did you notice anything of concern about the Prize of Prexus” he asked Llisanya out of the blue “anything unusual about the fight with the Gunthak Pirates?”
Llisanya did not want to talk about that day. She was still mourning Sam and her vagina was still sore from all the men that had subsequently enjoyed her as their reward for a battle bravely fought.
It had not been easy servicing a whole crew. The First Mate had gone first, naturally. Drinnen and his average size prick had got on top, kissed her cheek then stuck it in. He was one of those vocal clients who liked to provide his own narrative as he shagged, as if Llisanya was too stupid to know what he was doing. “I’m fucking you...” he had told her. “I’m fucking you...I’m in your cunt! I’m in your CUNT!...I’m banging hard!...I’m banging hard!”
“I’m coming” he had finally announced. “I’m cumming!” His cock released its cum, the first of a great many loads for her that day.
One by one each of the other men had come to her bunk after impatiently waiting his turn outside her cabin, annoyed that the fellow ahead was taking too long. She remembered a few but mostly it was a blur. Some played with her breasts, some grabbed her ass, one smelt her hair. The faces were familiar from the mess deck but Llisanya could not remember which sailor had a big cock and which had paid extra to cum on her face. Each laid her then left, never giving her a chance to stop and mourn Sam.
Poor Armiss, in charge of organizing the gangbang, had gone last. He was one of those fast-fuckers. “I saw you kill that pirate” he told her as he moved his hips like an over-wound clockwork. “You were on his back with your legs wrapped around his waist!”
Armiss’s big cock was hurting her but he did not stop fucking and did not stop talking about her dagger-work. “You got your jollies, didn’t you?” He chortled while his mad thrusting continued unabated. “You were on him like a whore on her wedding night. You had your clit pushed against him as the blade stabbed down. You were rubbing as he died!” Arniss came then.
He stayed a few minutes and helped Llisanya put fresh sheets on her bunk. Llisanya had then slept through three watches.
Sitting there in the Raven’s Roost Llisanya did not blame the crew for taking their turns with her. Scant hours earlier they had fought for their lives. They were grateful to be alive and needing the pleasure this little whore was willingly giving them. Llisanya did not resent the cocks and cum-spewing orgasms as the men laid her and had their pleasure. Most had thanked her and gave her a hug but she had had no chance to think about Sam. Her heavy purse did little to mend the sadness she felt.
Llisanya broke out of her thoughts. Diamander was waiting for an answer to his question about the battle. “No” she told him curtly “I saw nothing unusual during the fight.”
There was a silence. Gerta brought the drinks and then did her rounds to check on rest of the handful of early customers. Diamander and Llisanya absentmindedly toasted a successful voyage concluded. The drinks were excellent. The Raven’s Roost only served the best libations.
Four of the Prize of Prexus’s crew walked into the tavern. Llisanya believed two of them had paid the extra coin to shoot a load on her face. She definitely remembered the tallest one; he had the smallest dick she had ever had to service. Even M’Tun’s was bigger. She was pretty sure he was the one that had stolen a pair of her used knickers.
The fourth sailor, the very attractive one, hadn’t even fucked her. He had licked the sperm of several of his shipmates off her chin then asked to wear her underwear and prance about in her room for the rest of the half hour. “Do you have any pretty, lacy ones” he had asked, disappointed at the assortment of too-practical undergarments. He had tipped her well to ensure she would not tell anyone he was a sicko-jizz-licking-transvestite-pervert.
The four stopped to chat politely to Llisanya and Diamander for a few minutes. The Wrath of Ro had finally been sold but at a disappointingly low price. The coin legally due each crewmember was still a nice amount of gold and Captain Coranis had not hesitated to give everyone his share.
The sailors should have been thrilled by the coin they got but instead they bitterly complained that Coranis had fired them without cause. “You are too smart to be on my crew” she had told them enigmatically as she paid them out their wages for the voyage plus a small severance. That left them to either winter in New Halas or find a new ship to take them home before temperatures in New Halas truly plummeted and froze all ships in harbour until spring.
Not surprisingly, the unemployed seamen felt a resentment to the passengers who still had passage back home. They made polite excuses when invited to join Llisanya and Diamander and found a table of their own some distance away.
Diamander was glad they had not joined them. Even though he noticed the very attractive one had stolen an interested glance his way, he needed to talk to Llisanya about the battle and that was already proving difficult. He tried another tack. “Is there another way we can return to Qeynos?”
The question annoyed Llisanya, already put in a bad mood by thoughts of Sam. “We have a return billet on the Prize of Prexus” she snapped abruptly “...paid for.” She wondered did Diamander also want to be stuck in New Halas until the ice was out of the harbour in late spring?
Diamander persisted despite Llisanya’s ill humour. “So you saw nothing unusual aboard ship? The day the Gunthak Pirates attacked?”
Since Diamander was not going to stop talking about that painful day, Llisanya gave up and answered him impatiently. “I thought it odd that the last two pirates jumped overboard rather than be captured. I assume they feared the cruel revenge they faced.”
Two heaping servings of Fårikal arrived right then. As Gerta wordlessly slammed the meals down and departed, Llisanya dug in, clearly vexed by Diamander’s enigmatic questions. She was also upset that Sam was sitting in the chair opposite her. She had not noticed him sit down.
Diamander paid no attention to Sam, as if he did not see him. “I need to be blunt, Llisanya; Coranis was using some very deadly magic spells during that fight. I don’t know much about magic, but I saw nothing that assured me these were spells sanctioned by the Temple of Life or the Concordium of Mages. It was pretty clear to me the rumours of her Dark Elf witchings are true.”
Llisanya was frustrated to hear such nonsense about Dark Arts from Diamander. She had sailed thrice with Captain Coranis and had seen no such thing as magic of any kind being cast. She put her fork down and looked at her dinnermate. She decided she had better at least listen to Diamander. He was no fool. Perhaps there was something she did not understand. “I saw no magic” she repeated as if inviting him to prove her wrong.
Diamander had still not touched his meal. He also had still not noticed Sam. Llisanya knew then that Sam was not really there. She was not being haunted; she was just overwrought. Stressful times made people hallucinate. She would be okay after a good sleep.
Diamander leaned in and quietly spoke. “Coranis fired off several damage spells during the seabattle. Do you remember the corpses of the pirates lying there all burned and blistered as if killed by fire and disease?”
“Yes” Llisanya replied, a little impatiently. “Some caster on the pirate ship had done that. He was so incompetent in the magic arts that his spells hit his own shipmates instead of us. I remember how they fell, writhing in pain as burns and boils consumed them.”
“Llisanya, it was Coranis casting all that arcane corruption, not some inept Pirate Wizard. She killed half the pirate crew with her magic. All they had was a healer. She cast a lightning bolt and blew that healer’s skull apart. She hypnotized two of the pirates into fighting for us. When she was done with them she told them to jump overboard.”
Diamander made a subtle nod of his head, indicating the four sailors at the distant table. “When the fight was over and those four sailors over there were looking uneasy about all the magic flying around, she cast one more spell; a Forgetting spell. She told everyone to forget what she had done and everyone, even you, forgot as soon as she wiggled her fingers.” Diamander lifted his hand and performed a pretty good imitation of Coranis’s wiggling fingers.
The wiggling fingers awakened a memory in Llisanya. It was perhaps a dream she had forgotten. Had she once seen Captain Coranis do that? It was probably just déjà vu, she told herself. Still, Diamander’s conviction seemed earnest enough. And Diamander’s narrative of a healer’s head bursting open brought forth in her mind’s eye a disconnected memory of a spray of blood and brains where a man’s head had been. She had seen that happen once, if she could just remember where...
Llisanya’s regard for the Vishra family assured her that the Vishra men did not make up hysterical fantasies. Her conviction of that day’s events was shaken. Were the tall tales about Abella Coranis true? She remembered the tavern tale of the irascible Harbourmaster and his coerced compliance.
Llisanya had heard that the Dark Elves often had magical ways to make a person forget things but despite her growing doubts she remained unwilling to believe such a mad story about Coranis casting arcane spells. Looking down from the rigging, she had seen the whole fight. Coranis had cast no spells. “If what you say is true” she challenged Diamander “why do you remember?”
“I cannot share that with you, Llisanya. Suffice to say I was protected from the Forgetting spell.”
There followed a short silence. Diamander could see Llisanya remained skeptical. “Llisanya” he reasoned “do you think that a pirate spellcaster would be so inept as to kill half his own shipmates? Do you not wonder how it was we only lost six of the crew notwithstanding the numbers that attacked us? It was because Coranis killed so many of the pirates with those spells of hers and stopped our crew being overwhelmed.”
Llisanya looked at Sam, not sure what else to do. Sam just nodded at her as if agreeing with Llisanya’s suspicions that Lord Diamander was speaking the truth.
Diamander took a forkful of lamb. As he ate, Llisanya asked “How many people know about Coranis’s witchery?”
“Just me” he answered “and now you. And Uncle Vishra suspects.”
“There is a simple spell in Neriak” Llisanya cautioned Diamander “very common among the most skilled of Dark Elf mages. You cast it and your victim cannot lie. If Coranis spent anytime learning Dark Elf sorcery, she would have learned that spell. Do you have an immunity to such a spell, Diamander?”
“I do not” Diamander admitted, horrified to think Coranis might cast such a spell on him and force the truth. It was all the more reason to avoid a return aboard the Prize of Prexus. What would Skipper Coranis be willing to do to keep her secret?
“If something happens to me” he told Llisanya ominously “let Uncle Vishra know what I saw.” Diamander’s words underlined how dangerous the situation was.
Llisanya nodded and swallowed a mouthful of Fårikal. To her relief, Sam was gone. He never was really there. She was tired was all. “I know who to ask about an alternative way to get back to Qeynos” she assured Diamander, now convinced of the danger in sailing back on the Prize of Prexus. “It will cost us some gold, though.”
Arabella and Falco took their leave of Fippy IV and Ellister. They had enough supplies to reach Freeport and enough coin for a week’s room and board while they searched for work.
“If my twin sister is still in Freeport, we can maybe stay at her apartment” Arabella suggested. “That’ll save us some coin.”
“Maybe you could send her a letter” Falco suggested, not wanting to sleep in an alley until they found some digs. “You know, tell her we’re coming.”
“I can’t. The letter would just come back to me since we are twins.”
Fippy and Falco looked confused. Ellister seemed to understand the problem. “Being Dark Elf twins” he explained to the others “they have the same name. The letter just goes to the nearest Arabella Farqharson. The one standing two feet from the mailbox.”
Fippy wished them a safe journey.
Mysteriously, Arabella noted that Falco was carrying Fippy’s precious bo staff. Fippy and Sprockfuddle had given her all that grief over that stupid thing yet Fippy was now just standing there, wishing everyone safe travels while Falco had it clearly dangling from his back.
Obviously, Fippy had made some deal with Falco. Arabella did not like not knowing what the deal was.
Arabella and Falco climbed up into the Peat Bog then out the storm sewer to surface in the middle of the moat as the dawn was just lighting the sky. They reached the far bank without being seen. They prepared to get out of their wet clothes.
Shivering in the fall chill, Falco pulled out his leather armour idly wondering if Sprockfuddle was out of jail yet and if so had he noticed that someone had stolen two sets of his very pricey leather armour.
No longer in the proximity of Ellister or some other queer, it seemed the secondary spell that Ellister had embedded in Falco’s Cock Enhancement Ring was no longer giving Falco faggotty desires. He caught sight of Arabella undoing her lacings and watched. She paid him no mind.
His renewed desire for pussy allowed him the pleasure of seeing Arabella pull off her tunic and leggings. Her tiny frame was so perfectly proportioned. High breasts complimented round hips and sweeping thighs, all packed into a four foot six inch frame. He never ceased being fascinated by her dark blue skin. He got off looking at her purple nipples and snow white pubic beard. He had an urge to lick her gash until she came.
He remembered all the screwing he had done with Arabella in his single room apartment that one afternoon while they left the door open and people had stopped to watch him fucking away on top. Everyone could see his was fucking a girl. He fervently hoped those voyeurs would have gone to Fish’s Alehouse and told the other patrons there that he liked to be on top of women. He was not Falco the Faggot. Everyone would forget he had sucked off Ellister in front of the whole crowd. They would hear about his time on top of Arabella and know he was a stud with the females!
Now nude, Arabella could see Falco’s immense phallus growing hard as he watched her milk swollen tits sway heavily. Seeing Falco was looking, Arabella delayed pulling her leather armour out of her pack. She reached to hold that ridiculously long shaft of male hardness in both her hands.
Falco grinned. He was pleased to see that Arabella liked to hold a prick of the size he had. It stuck out from his groin, huge in her grip. If she was an octopus, she would have still been unable to grasp the full length of his fuck stick in her eight hands.
Falco liked to feel her two hands running up and down on his incredible pecker. Why had he wasted all the time letting that pansy Ellister suck on it when Arabella had been right there in the nearby bunk playing with herself while she watched him giving Ellister a blow job or taking it up the ass?
He let Arabella pump away on his cock. He would let her make him cum all over her face. Then he would tell her had changed his mind about leaving Qeynos. He would go find Cadwarra and her big boobs. Cadwarra had enough boob that she could even bury his big schlong between them.
He imagined how thrilled Cadwarra would be to see how big he now was. She would be flattered that he had spent so much money just for her to enjoy his hugeness. He remembered the humiliating sight of that Sentry blowing his wad all over the giggling Cadwarra. The huge loads his Cock Enhancing charm endowed him with would drench Cadwarra’s face with more cum than that asshat Sentry had blown. He would then fuck her while she had so much semen on her face she could not even see. She would forget all about that Sentry with the cock that could never ever compare to the size of cock he now had; the size Cadwarra would so love. She would forget all about that Sentry’s comparatively tiny dinky.
Falco could almost feel the wetness of Cadwarra’s snatch as his entire length went in and out of her. She had been so hot and moist as he fucked her behind those rocks in the Forest Ruins. She would spread for him again. He would ram his entire length into her. He would not stop just because she was squealing in pain. That would be her punishment for cuckolding him with the Sentry. The thought of hurting her would just make a fuck with Cadwarra even more fun.
After, they would hold each other. Because of his huge cock she would forgive him for his mistreatment. Girls were like that, being rather stupid. Especially the big boobed ones like Cadwarra. She would ask him to marry her and he would lead her along for a while until he had fucked her a bunch.
Yes, he promised himself, he would turn around in just a few minutes and go find Cadwarra. First, he might as well get a blowjob Arabella, standing there naked for him, working away on his cock. He pushed her hands off his dick and stepped toward her, immense pecker swinging.
Not guessing Falco’s thoughts about Cadwarra, Arabellla got down on her knees so she could suck off the grinning Falco properly. She kissed the tip. Then she took his cock in her mouth.
What portion of cock she could fit in her mouth pushed against her tonsils. She almost gagged. She wondered if Falco was one of those weirdos who would like it if she upchucked on him. Some men liked that. She suspected Falco would be mad if she did that. She therefore denied herself the pleasure of covering his cock with vomit.
Falco rammed her throat nonstop. Cum began to flow. Arabella was used to his typically big volume but the magic charm added to the amount flowing into her mouth.
She gulped down what she could. She kept some more in her mouth. The rest fell from her lips onto the grass. Falco just kept coming. He pulled his cock from her lips and started clubbing her face with it while cum continued to spew from the knob, flying all over and landing willy nilly. The sperm looked good on her blue skin, though the amounts of white sperm that fell on her head disappeared against her snow white hair. She liked being covered, where ever Falco wanted to shoot.
At last Falco’s orgasm ended. His dick softened. It hung down to his knees. A little bit of cum dripped from it still. He bent down to kiss Arabella on her cum-covered lips. He liked to taste his own cum. It was an ego trip. He kissed her sticky cheek, vacuuming up a big glob of cum. He licked more of himself off her forehead. Arabella let him have his fun until her face was totally cleaned off.
Falco swallowed some of his cum. He spit some in Arabella’s mouth. Her face glistened, mostly with his saliva but some cum remained. Arabella figured what was left would dry quick enough.
“Your ejaculation was quite impressive” Arabella complimented Falco “but we just wasted half an hour. Let’s start for Freeport.”
Arabella glanced around as if hoping some early morning adventurer had been passing by and had seen her taking those copious surges of Falco cum. A little disappointed to see no one was spying on her sucking cock, she mapped out the intended route to Falco. “Once past Archer’s Wood that’s Darkpaw territory. Then we skirt by the entrance to Blackburrow and pass through Sabertooth lands via the waterfall tunnel into Thundering Steppes.”
Still naked, Arabella started digging through her pack. “The Gnolls will be no problem, though. I’ll cast my invisibility spell. Stay close to me and you’ll remain invisible, too.”
“Why not catch a ship from the Antonica Dock?” Falco asked. He liked looking at her cuntlips between her thighs as she was bent over presenting her adorably round ass to him.
“I am not sure there isn’t a warrant out for your arrest” Arabella answered as she finally pulled her armour out of her bag. “That Corporal....Peckett...he’ll arrest you for sure if there is one. Therefore, the ship out of the Antonica dock is too risky. We need to walk.”
“Fine” Falco said sullenly, not looking forward to trekking all the way to Freeport. His stupid intention to go back to Qeynos and find Cadwarra had disappeared with his erection. Even without a warrant, Thorsona and Baur would be looking for him. As well, he had to go find M’Tun.
“I need to go see Gol M’Tun” Falco suddenly announced.
Arabella had no desire to go anywhere near that psychopath. “M’Tun?? Why go see him?”
“I need to pay him back the three gold I owe him.”
Arabella sighed. Reluctantly, she accepted that they needed to go pay that debt. If Falco owed M’Tun any coin, M’Tun would make it tough on them in Freeport. M’Tun had connections. She resigned herself to dealing with ‘Scratchy’ M’Tun. Seeing him would be unpleasant but it would be okay in the end. It always had been okay before...in the end. She just needed to make up some lie to explain the shortspear she had ‘burrowed’ from M’Tun’s safehouse. They headed to Archer’s Wood.
M’Tun found them, not the other way around. He popped out behind Falco as if to remind both of them he could slit a throat or two anytime he wanted to. “Well, well...my favourite Dark Elf slut and someone who owes me three gold coins. Isn’t this lovely?”
Arabella said nothing. She knew M’Tun’s fighting ability. She tried not to show her fear.
Falco, less aware of how dangerous M’Tun could be, still had his guard up. He showed deference, as if showing respect to M’Tun would curry favour or forgiveness for his tardy repayment of the three gold.
M’Tun noted Falco’s submissiveness. He felt no respect for Falco for being so inconsequential. As he had judged in his first meeting with Falco, he saw him as no threat.
Arabella, on the other hand, would need to be watched. She feared him. She always had. A fellow Dark Elf fearing you could more often than not get you a knife in the ribs. That shortspear would be too unwieldy in these thick woods to be of concern but she no doubt had a handy dagger hidden somewhere.
“Perhaps you would like to explain what you are doing with my favourite shortspear” he demanded of Arabella, ignoring that wimp of a Wood Elf for now.
Like her fourth cousin once removed Arabella had pretty good acting skills. “I thought it was yours!” Arabella pretended to be beaming proudly at her own cleverness. “Some no good Human brought it down to the Well, hoping to sell it cheap. I confiscated it for you. Don’t worry, I checked your safe house. Nothing else had been stolen. The thief did not even have a shot of whiskey.”
M’Tun hardly credited the ridiculous story. “Perhaps you would like to tell me the name of this thief, then. I crave a word with him.”
Arabella answered with no incriminating delay that might betray the fact that she was making up a bold-faced lie on the cuff. “Well, Gol...sadly...I realized you would be quite angry with him. I slit his throat...to save you the trouble, you know? I suppose I should have asked his name before I did you that kind service....”
It was clear M’Tun did not believe Arabella. “Just put the spear back where you found it, Arabella.”
Arabella did not further protest her innocence. She was not being punished by M’Tun for the theft of the spear so she left it at that.
M’Tun finally addressed Falco. He did so without looking at him. “I assume you are ready to repay me my three gold, ‘Fucko’. I assure you I am most insulted by the amount of time you took to come settle your debt. Lucky for you I have been too busy to sneak into town and cut your throat for that insult.” He held out a hand at Falco in expectation of payment. He snapped his fingers rudely, still not looking at the loser Falco.
Falco had the three gold at the ready. Raising no protest, he placed it in M’Tun’s hand. He watched meekly as M’Tun tucked it into a pocket.
M’Tun spoke no further to Falco. He was more interested in Arabella and her nice tits. He reached out to grab her leather jerkin and pulled her to him. “I haven’t had a female visitor in a while” he told her. He began to undo Arabella’s fastenings. “And you need to compensate me for borrowing my spear...”
With Arabella’s leather tunic completely unbuttoned M’Tun pulled it open. He pulled it off her shoulders down to her wrists, leaving it there to pin her arms. He then pushed her leggings down to her ankles.
With wrists and ankles restrained, M’Tun was sure Arabella would be unable to reach for her lethal blade, where ever in her leathers she had it hidden. He glanced at Falco briefly. Falco was standing there, making no move to help Arabella. The only ‘weapon’ he had was a stupid woooden staff hanging on his back. The staff would do little damage even if Falco had the courage to use it. M’Tun sneered at Falco then forgot about him.
Arabella submitted, not wanting to anger M’Tun. As she expected, M’tun gave her a backward push. With her leggings around her ankles, she fell back onto the forest floor. M’Tun pulled out his laughably small erection and got on top, pulling his own jacket off. He thrust into her, all three inches.
“Just lie there” M’Tun ordered Arabella. “It’s been so long since I had a nice whore to fuck that I doubt I will take long.” Falco stood back, not brave enough to interfere with the rape.
M’Tun started really driving into Arabella. If he had a cock worth talking about it might have hurt, but Arabella was not uncomfortable, apart from the thought that M’Tun might get violent, as he often did when sexually aroused. For now, he just kept fucking and grunting.
Arabella finally got her arms out of her tunic. M’Tun did not stop fucking, but took a moment to make sure Arabella had no blade in her hand. She wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling his body close while the fuck continued.
Quite familiar with M’Tun’s desires and perversions, Arabella knew he wanted his back scratched. She could either dig her nails into his skin too lightly or too deep. Either way he was going to give her a hard slap for doing it wrong. He was also going to give her a hard slap for not doing it at all. She dug her nails in way too deep.
She got a hard slap for it. “You slut” he yelled at her as blood seeped from the new rents in the flesh of his heavily scarred back. “That’s too deep!” He slapped her again. “You bitch!”
Falco stood there docilely, not making a move to prevent Arabella from being so abused. M’Tun knew he need not even bother to keep an eye on him. Falco just stood there, unable to summon the courage to protect his travelling companion from being so misused.
M’Tun loved how Arabella’s pussy felt so warm and slick. He felt Arabella’s wetness slathered on his cock as he pushed in deep. He loved sliding in and out of her. “Maybe I’ll let you do her after me” he told the timid Falco. He fastened his hungry mouth on the nipple of Arabella’s swollen left breast.
A burst of sweet milk filled his mouth. Arabella moaned. There was the crack of Fippy’s bo staff across his right temple.
When Falco had stuck Arabella with the bo staff down in the Well, Arabella had not been recognized as Falco’s enemy and so the magic imbued in the staff had not been triggered. Arabella had merely suffered a cut to the forehead which may have drawn a lot of blood but did no real damage.
The blow to M’Tun’s skull was a different situation. “The bo staff will know M’Tun is a foe” Fippy had assured him. “The magic in the weapon will trigger. Just wait for a moment when he is not looking and hit him hard. One good blow will do the needed damage.”
Falco had struck with all the force his hatred of M’TUn could muster. He had struck with a great deal of satisfaction. It cracked the side of M’Tun’s skull.
Standing there now over M’Tun, Falco felt an exhilaration that he had been able to summon his courage and that he had been able to strike an accurate blow across M’Tun’s forehead. When Fippy had told him of the plan to kill M’Tun, Falco had not been sure he could do it. M’Tun scared him.
Falco stood for a few seconds, looking down at what was once a nasty Dark Elf; a bastard that had insulted him, derided him and intimidated him. M’Tun lay there with half his head caved in.
Lying under M’Tun, it took Arabella a moment to realize why M’Tun had stopped. She had been close to cumming. Blood dripped onto her face and she looked up at Falco, standing there with a bloodied bo staff in his hand. He had a look of shock on his face.
Arabella got out from under M’Tun’s body. She kicked her leggings from off her ankles. Nude, she looked down and assured herself M’Tun was dead, lying there on his back.
This was a disaster. Killing an important agent of Freeport was pretty stupid if one intended to then go live in Freeport. She looked at Falco, deeply annoyed. “Since you just got me into a pretty bad pickle by killing an important citizen of Freeport” she told Falco “I think you owe me an explanation as to why you did this. M’Tun was mostly harmless.”
Falco angrily suppressed the temptation to ask Arabella what exactly she deemed to be ‘mostly harmless’. He also considered demanding she thank him for saving her from a sexual assault. He instead explained. “Fippy wanted M’Tun dead. He’s been in cahoots with some Gnolls...Timberclaws, I think Fippy said. Together, M’Tun and his Gnollish cronies have been trying to corner the market in the Stout Distribution Network, starting to purchase huge barrels of the stuff that the Sabertooths have been brewing in Blackburrow. That was impinging on Fippy’s ability to supply stout to Irontoes East and other Qeynos Taverns and that was affecting Fippy’s income.”
Arabella hardly looked in a forgiving mood. “So what do you get out of killing M’Tun?”
“Fippy told me I can keep this bo staff.” Falco lifted a foot and kicked M’Tun’s corpse. “I would have killed this prick for free.”
Falco suddenly thought of something. He reached into M’Tun’s pocket and retrieved his three gold.
Arabella frowned glumly, unimpressed by Falco’s reward for services rendered. She could appreciate the power of that weapon, judging by the state of M’Tun’s skull, but it was still not worth the price of having all of Freeport angry at you. Falco’s new found courage to stand up to M’Tun did not seem to help him with his comprehension of the complexity of things out in the ‘real world’. The more she considered the situation the more she knew they were in a great deal of potential trouble.
Arabella decided to explain it to Falco. “Admittedly, Freeport does not feel too protective of its citizens, but M’Tun’s services out here in Antonica were regarded as highly valuable to Freeport and he has important family who will not be happy should they become aware of what just happened here. This killing was not wise. Fippy got rid of a supply bottleneck real cheap while you and I are now guilty of murder.”
Falco had no answer.
Arabella listened to the ambient noises of the forest and made an observation. “Do you hear how quiet Archer’s Wood has just gotten? No chirps or cheeps from woodland critters? That means one of two things; either no one saw us kill M’Tun, or a bunch of creatures have seen us kill M’Tun. If the former, we are ok. If the latter, some of those creatures would be Timberclaw Gnolls. If the Timberclaw know what we did then word will soon be on its way to Freeport. If so, we will be arrested as soon as we reach the city. Executions in Freeport are not swift.”
The two of them stood over M’Tun lying on his back dead on the ground. His little prick was still hard. Falco realized that he may have been played for a sucker again. Fippy had not hinted to Falco that the death of M’Tun would be any kind of a problem. “You mean, Freeport is no longer an option for us?”
“It remains our only option” Arabella answered. “Kelethin and New Halas are allied to Qeynos. Neriak will refuse you residency due to your enthusiastic cocksucking adventures. That leaves us with Freeport...unless our crimes are known.”
“Great” Falco muttered. He had really messed up.
“We don’t need to give up on Freeport yet” Arabella cautioned. “We need to be careful, is all.”
Arabella took a moment to wonder that M’Tun still had a hard-on, tiny though it was. She looked at it a moment then looked back up at Falco. “Here’s what we do. We head through Thundering Steppes to the Docks at the mouth of the Dead River. That’s neutral territory. From there. we take passage via ship to Port Naythex on the edge of Nektulos Forest. I have business associates there who can contact my sister. She’ll be able to enquire as to whether we are innocent of any charges such as the murder of the upstanding Freeport citizen Gol M’Tun.”
As Arabella spoke, she casually go on top of M’Tun’s body. She inserted his erection into her. Her back began to arch.
To Falco’s shock, he realized Arabella was fucking the corpse. “You do realize M’Tun is dead, Arabella?”
“I’m not stupid” she fired back at Falco as if he had just asked the dumbest question ever. She kept humping. “He is still warm and his prick is still hard. I am not going to waste a good stiffy when, thanks to you, I still have not cum.“
Watching Arabella grinding, Falco found the perverse act quite arousing. Her orgasm was clearly building. “If you need to cum, Arabella, fuck me.”
“It’s not the same.”
Falco waited for the naked Arabella to cum all over M’tun’s dead pecker. Her climax was monumental. Falco had never realized Dark Elf women were such sick perverts.