A Wicked Age Undreamed Of


Takimaru

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#41
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Half of the barbarian woman's brow raised at the mention of poisons, and she returned Jann's glance with similar sentiment in her expression. It was the way of cowards, as far as she was concerned; those who would lull you into a false sense of security with sweet words only to take advantage of you when your back was turned. Ironically enough, a Zamoran man had once tainted her drink at one of the taverns in her travels. It was only due to her Cimmerian constitution that she was able to fight him off without succumbing to the sleep-inducing effects. Hebeny's apparent use of such had Rylynn putting down a mental note or two...

When they arrived at the slave market, Ryl took in her surroundings. Her tan skin is no stranger to the blazing sun, and though there is a light sheen of sweat covering her, she isn't bothered by the exposure--not like the soft, pampered nobles fanning themselves even while cooled by the shade of the amphitheatre they sit in. Pushing her way past the crowd, Rylynn opts to enter the area for the common rabble, closest to the stage, so as to get a better look at who is selling. Incidentally, she can't help but catch an eyeful of the goods up for auction. One is a young girl... a virgin, no less. While her own childhood might not have been one of luxury and comfort, it certainly was not so awful as to involve the sale of her womanhood and freedom to some disgustingly rich and privileged slob. The very thought of it caused her blood to boil.

The bidding began. Ryl was quick to spot some men that she could guess as members of the Cold Brotherhood. It was no surprise that degenerates such as them would do as much. Then, she spotted an opposing wager, made by a portly, balding noble looking far too excited to ruin the poor lass's childhood. She overheard a familiar name--Oleska? That pig was the man she was technically working for?

As Oleska got exactly what he wanted--something he was no doubt used to--it only grew more and more difficult for Rylynn to hold in her bile. Somewhere deep inside, for whatever reason, she was overcome with the sudden urge to thrash these auctioneers and any future owners of the girl in question. If she had ever acted on that, yet done so with a perhaps less powerful body... then she wouldn't be terribly unlike the next girl on stage, who was presumably the last one's sister. It was still an odd feeling, watching the government bidders go silent. They had wallowed so long in luxury that they could afford to be just that picky.

But as strong as the temptation to lose focus was, Ryl ultimately would not. More importantly, it seemed as though the Cold Brotherhood was soon to win the next girl. Rylynn kept an eye on the black bearded man at the center of the branded cluster. When the time was right, she would eventually do her best to follow him. Perhaps he would have answers.
 

BlueSlime

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Aug 12, 2010
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#42
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

The nude woman on stage had the same auburn hair as the previous girl, soaked through and clinging to her face and neckline, as she had been splashed with a soapy water to help her fair body glisten in the vengeful noon-day sun. She was possessed of a lean corded muscle, suggestive of an active lifestyle. Strong thighs, a defined stomach, smallish, pert breasts and a narrow face with high, haughty cheekbones stood out as her defining features. To the well cultured Stygian girl, the obvious athleticism of the girl suggested her to be of a peasant's class, and yet, her bearing and defiance, and something about the look in her eyes as she stared out above the crowd of onlookers, boring a silent curse into the aristocrats and merchants of flesh - it belied a more complex status.

To the Cimmerian, the girl seemed bravely (or foolishly) stubborn, not unlike she would be in a similar situation, but despite her appreciable muscle, she was short, malnourished, chained, and obviously a victim of the bizarre treacheries of the 'civilized' world in which she had the misfortune to live. She was just one of thousands that had been shackled in Zamora.

The slavegirl had been beaten, it was clear, but her harsh beauty was still visible behind the welts. The Brotherhood had to bid up to 65 silvers for her, but at last the bids stopped and she was sold. A heavier chained collar was placed on the girl, and bigger, weighted manacles around her wrists. A dusky skinned Stygian caravan guard pulled the girl off the back of the stained wood stage. The bearded Zamorian and his Cold Brotherhood accomplices moved out of the standing area and converged with the Stygian merchant behind the stage to complete the deal. Rylynn, Jann, and Hebeny observed them from a short distance. Once their new possession was in tow, the six men glanced about them, and then set off towards the west of the plaza.

The auction continued on, but for the employed mercenaries, their quarry was on the move and so they naturally followed the Brotherhood members into the narrow lanes of the residential district, trailing them as the surrounding buildings grew dingier and more decrepit. Rylynn kept her eyes on the lane ways, noting how abandoned these small roads between the cramped, dark stone buildings were at this hour, when most laborers were at work. Even the beggars found these forgotten thoroughfares useless. It was for all intents and purposes abandoned.

The lane was so narrow at one point that the Brotherhood members needed to form a single file, with the Argossian girl in the middle with three men in front of her and three in back. Rylynn and Hebeny both believed that they had done a good job of not being spotted while following the men, so that they might be able to force a surprise confrontation if they wanted to.

These men were obviously on a mission to deliver this girl to whatever masters they served, and perhaps that would lead the adventuresses to discover what Nimedes wanted to know. However, they may not get a better chance to ambush these men than here in the narrow lanes, where low roofs could be potentially accessed with a quick climb and the men would be unable to bring their strength of numbers to bear. Jann seemed to sense the possibility, and unhooked his hand axe from its loop, but he looked to the girls to figure out what they wanted to do. He'd learned enough from their take charge attitude in the bedroom to know that he should defer to their lead.
 

GargantuaBlarg

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#43
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Hebeny stepped away from the Brothers, repeating what she'd overheard to Jann and Rylynn. She watched as the girl was sold to Oleska with a twinge of regret... it was a poor fate she was headed to, if her eavesdroppings were true, and given her reasons for leaving Stygia, helping her to sidestep her cruel fate would have made Hebeny quite happy. Perhaps Oleska would be willing to trade her for his crystal...?

The sorceress wanted to bid on the girl's sister, as well, but she knew from the thug's talk that she would just draw their attention to their group and force her price to quite unreasonable levels. No... Hebeny knew it would be Better to simply take her.

Their interest in the auction resolved as their quarry left the slave market with their prize, Hebeny noted the quiet and the narrowing alleys of the slums they were in...

She walked along with Rylynn and Jann, talking quietly. "Well, we have a few options... we could follow them to their lair and hope we don't die getting inside... or we could fight them now, and hope there's enough left of them to interrogate, that they don't get any good licks in, and that whoever their master is doesn't scare them more than we do." The sorceress reached for a piece of spare cloth under her cloak, planning to wrap her face up so she'd not be recognized later. Her hand lingered on the quiver hanging from her hip... "Personally, I'd like to take that girl from them..."

If that was indeed their plan of action, Hebeny would ask Jann to help her up onto the roofs, where she wouldn't have to risk trying to shoot past them. Jann could jump down after she shot, blocking off the opposite side of the alley, and catch them unawares while they were focused on her and Ry. The dog could back up Rylynn, and she could shoot the backs of Jann's three. Hopefully they'd take them down quick enough that none of them risked getting hurt...
 

BlueSlime

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#44
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

"Attacking them in broad daylight is bold, but they've some silver on them, and that girl seems to be important to them, judging by what they said. I guess I'm for it if you are. What say you, Rylynn?"

Jann thumbed the leather strapped handle of his axe, following the Stygian's gaze to the roof tops, his mind treading the same line of thought as hers. If Ryl gave her consent to the plan, he would boost her up to a low sloped rooftop, then follow by leaping and pulling himself up onto the dark grey slate.
 

Takimaru

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Apr 22, 2010
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#45
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Rylynn was keen to avert her eyes when the men of the Cold Brotherhood took one last glance around them. Best not to raise their suspicions while a full crowd was between the barbarian and her prey, else their escape be made too easily. She would only notify them of their presence once she had them properly cornered.

"Exactly what I was thinking," she muttered quietly in response to her dusky-skinned cohort. "As long as one lives--preferrably the bearded one--we can get some of the information we seek."

"Boldness is not an unwanted trait amongst my people," Ryl replied to Jann. "We speak without fear, and fight much the same. Yes, there are six of them, and three of us... but men become weak when they grow too accustomed to the safety of numbers. Or when they are overcome with confusion."

Their puzzlement was what she sought to trigger. While the alleyway was abandoned, she sought to make her movements as natural as possible as she trailed them, pointing an occasional glance to the rooftops above. There would be no warning from Rylynn, no speech of bravado or justice, but a sudden increase in the beat of her steps as she charged forward to dispatch of the three men at the rear with her sword. She would rely on the moment of sudden confusion and panic to gain the advantage, though she had little in the way of numbers. Surely the Cold Brotherhood wouldn't have expected such a sudden attack after the acquisition of a less exotic slave?
 

BlueSlime

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#46
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Jann boosted the lithe Stygian sorceress up onto the slate roof, then with a leap and a grunt heaved himself up after her. Meanwhile Rylynn increased her pace in the alleyway to draw closer to the rear of the Zamorians as they winded their way through the low level housing of the inner Southern district.

The two would-be rescuers made their way across the roofs hopping from one to the other easily, as each building was spaced naught but inches apart from the next. However, the slate tiles were curved and loose, causing some unsure footing as they raced to catch up with the gang members. At one point, Jann's heavy footsteps crunched through a weakened tile, cracking it loudly and sending a piece of it rolling off the the roof and scattering on the ground below.

The two Zamorians at the rear of the column looked back at the sound, to realize that pursuers were upon them.

"What's this?" One said, mixing surprise with hostility as he drew his knife. "We've company, brothers! Some snot nosed brat, a doxy and a savage bitch."

"Playing at rescue perhaps? They've pried into the wrong business," spat another darkly.

Jann surged forward, leaping headlessly off the roof and into the middle of the men as they all began to draw their weapons. He landed squarely upon the Zamorian just in front of the slave girl, driving the foe to the ground and absorbing most of the impact from his fall.

A moment later, Hebeny had drawn her Stygian bow from around her shoulder and let loose an arrow from her quiver. The arrow caught the rear most Cold Brotherhood thug in his neck, dropping him like a slaughtered calf.

As he fell, Rylynn's charge took her into the fray. The dark haired Cimmerian wasted little time in proving the strength of her sword arm, as she cleaved through the defending rogue's arm and carried through his neck in a spray of gore that decorated the alley walls.

Of all the member of the column, the only one not in shock at this sudden onslaught was the auburn haired slavegirl, who took her heavy chains and swiftly looped them around the man who had been prodding her forward during the march. So fixated was he on the charging Rylynn that he did not notice the girl's action until the chain was tightening mercilessly around his throat. His dagger clattered to the ground as he sought to clutch at the chain desperately. Brutally, the girl clung to him tightly, her teeth bared in a feral manner as she sought to subdue her oppressor.

The last two members of the Cold Brotherhood, one the bearded leader and the other his accomplice who seemed to know well the tales of Oleska, looked at one another and then turned their tails and fled swiftly down the alley, leaving slave and brothers alike behind.
 

GargantuaBlarg

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#47
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Hebeny ran with her bow drawn and an arrow nocked, in case she needed to shoot quickly - which, it turned out, was a good idea. When their prey was alerted, she quickly drew her bow and spent a bare moment to aim, and then the sorceress loosed an arrow at the first target she had a shot at, and struck him down quite ably. They fell upon the Brothers with far more effectiveness than she'd expected, and in the blink of an eye only two of them were left. Unfortunately, their plan had left an avenue for them to escape... swiftly, Hebeny drew another arrow from the quiver at her hip, and aimed to send it through one of the fleeing men's legs.
 

Takimaru

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#48
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Rylynn spotted her teammates moving into action, but she wasn't to be distracted by a plan being carried out, as her role was just as important. She continued to sprint purposefully towards the slavers as they looked to draw their blades and mumble some dismissive taunts or comments. She couldn't hear the words they were saying--not that such things mattered in that very moment. Only the focus she had honed, the resolve in her first cut that would undoubtedly bring regret to the men who doubted her martial prowess. The barbarian didn't fail to notice the first thug raising his dagger in defense, but he needed to take her much more seriously than that if he were to have any hope of surviving her powerful swing.

The man didn't, and paid the price for it. There would have been a slight satisfaction to the feel of her blade biting cleanly through her target, if she weren't so focused on the task at hand. It had caused exactly what she had planned on happening, a degree of confusion in the ranks of the Cold Brotherhood. Enough so that their captive had wasted no time turning on them, and appeared to be doing well at that. Even Hebeny had proven her marksmanship effective, which came as a slight surprise to Ryl.

Glancing at the scene, she moved to bat aside the dagger with her foot, sliding it into a corner where it would be difficult to each. Yet, out of the corner of her peripheral vision, she spotted additional movement, as if to remind her that while the battle had started well, it had most certainly not been won just yet. Two of the slavers began to run for it.

"Cowards..." Not that she was surprised in the slightest by their choice, but it annoyed her nonetheless, and such showed upon her expression.

Gritting her teeth, Ryl saw nothing but obstacles in the way. The dog that Hebeny had accompany them seemed to already be giving chase, leaping over the mess of grounded individuals. Its action would serve as just enough inspiration for her to do the same. If the mutt could clear them so easily, why not her? She was already in danger of losing her prey, and so she went for it, making the jump with relative ease. The swordswoman had already picked up a sprint after that. "I'm going after the beard!" she cried out, hearing her own breaths and footsteps pick up a rapid pace once again.

For as hefty as he was, the man could certainly run when seeking to avoid conflict. It made sense, given that Ryl had no intentions of showing him any mercy if she did get him... but he seemed to be seeking the safety of other eyes, to shield himself with civilization perhaps, as the man turned a corner and appeared to be running towards one of the main avenues. Her catching him was inevitable, but doing so in front of that many people...

Yet Rylynn kept her eyes on the goal. Capture him--by any means. It was better to end this sooner than later, at any rate, and so she would have to find a way to intercept him before he reached the main road. She began to scan the area for quick shortcuts by which she could cut him off. If nothing else, perhaps something that she could throw to slow him down, or knock him out, would be good...
 
Last edited:

BlueSlime

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#49
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

As the last two men ran for their lives, the Stygian drew a second arrow from her quiver, knocked it onto the string and drew back cleanly. All those of pure Stygian blood were taught the delicate and noble art of their nation's bow. It was a deadly weapon in a short distance fight, like the one she had placed herself in now. Her arrows were not the barbed and poison-tipped shafts that many nobles and priests enjoyed, but their punch through flesh was all the same.

She was not a soldier, nor some mercenary scout who had extensive use of the bow on living targets, so her aim was not as precise as she would have liked. Her intention was to keep some of these remaining fools alive to answer her questions, but it seemed that Set, in His malicious desire, guided her aim to a more lethal angle, for her second shaft took the man through his spine and belly, dropping him as quickly as the first.

Silently cursing her inability to bring down her quarry without ending his life, Hebeny looked to the others still writhing on the ground. The Cimmerian warrior woman had leaped clean over the slavegirl and Jann from where they struggled on the ground. Hebeny could not see the state of Jann's opponent, but the other Cold Brother was turning a nasty shade of purple under the strain of the chain grinding across his throat.

In her Stygian tongue, Hebeny besought the girl to stop, for these men were needed alive to question. When this did nothing, Hebeny added that they would help find her sister. But it was no use. Whether because the Argossian could not understand her, or would not delay her vengeance, it was impossible to tell. The Stygian saw the Zamoran's eyes go distant and still, then glossed over in the mask of death.

Meanwhile the loyal mutt summoned with her magics and the savage Rylynn raced to catch the bearded leader of these rogues. Though he was slightly portly, fear and survival prodded him quickly on. He was racing for the perceived safety of a main thoroughfare, and he would make it too, if not somehow stopped.

Thinking quickly, the Cimmerian found a loose stone from the alley, took it up in her hands and gave a tremendous heave, sending it flying after him. Her aim was good, and through strange luck or fate, the stone collided with the back of his skull, sending him sprawling into a muddy puddle in a dip of the alley, just before the main road's intersection.

The dog easily caught up with the man and clamped its jaws around his leg. The dazed man moaned in pain, his head bloody, his arms sluggish and waggling.

Rylynn reached him with ease and would be able to manhandle him back to the smaller alley where the others waited.

---

There were two Cold Brothers left. The bearded one with blood caking his head, and a reedy, unclean fellow with a smashed nose and several newly missing teeth. The latter was not in a good condition to talk, and Jann could only shrug and say that it had been the man's face that had taken the brunt of his fall. One of those incisors had actually lodged itself in the young Brythunian's knee, and he had plucked it out like removing a nasty thorn.

"Bah. It stings like a striped hornet." Jann muttered sullenly. This only made the injured Zamoran look more annoyed."

The slavegirl crouched in a doorway, caught between anger at the two remaining men and wariness of her three rescuers. She spoke occasional words, but they were not known to any of the others. It must have been her Argossean language. After a short while, she spoke some words in Aquilonian, which Rylynn sort of recognized as "Who are you?"

Then the girl transitioned once again and repeated her question in Shemitish, a language known by Hebeny, and one which she could speak well.

"I don't know why you rescued me. You have my thanks, but I have little time to waste. They have sold my sister, Myrlena, and I must find her."
 

GargantuaBlarg

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#50
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Hebeny clicked her tongue. Oh well... if he was dead, he couldn't tattle on them, at least.

When Rylynn (and her dog) returned with their quarry, far less dead than the runner she'd handled, the Stygian was collecting her arrows, having cut a scrap of cloth from one of the dead men's shirts to wipe them clean and inspecting them to see if they were fit to be fired again. If nothing else, it would be good for her to take arrows away, lest whatever disquieting power these men had purchased the girl for could find her through them. It was a bit of grisly work, pulling them free - or rather, pushing them through the wounds they'd caused - but it wasn't as if she'd never had blood on her hands before. She was a Stygian priestess, after all.

The (ex-)priestess had in fact practically torn the whole shirt off, tearing them into bands she could fold over and tie around their captive's eyes. No sense letting them get a better look at them... she covered Jann's man's eyes as soon as she could, and blinded Rylynn's captive once she returned with him.

Hebeny had also busied herself collecting their purses, hoping Rylynn hadn't forgotten to do the same with the bearded man.

"Mmm, you'd best clean that later, lest it get infected," she said to Jann as he yanked a tooth out from his flesh. Unfamiliar speech greeted Hebeny's ears when their rescuee spoke up, though she repeated herself in a few different languages - eventually speaking in Shemitish, which Hebeny did know.

"Hold, girl," Hebeny said back, speaking Shemitish as well. "We might know something about that sister of yours. This lot here mentioned a name when she was sold... but her new owner is a rich man, undoubtedly owns a very well-guarded household, and we - or rather, you - don't have a bargaining chip to trade for her. Furthermore, this city enslaves any woman that it can - and you are both unbranded and were just up on the auction block. Even if you weren't cornered by a pack of thugs and enslaved again, you would certainly be either killed or captured by your sister's captor... long enough to see him kill her, I think. Rumor has it that's the sort of thing he likes. I think you ought to stick with us - we might have a lead on something he'd want more than your sister..."

Hebeny sighed, though. "I do wish you hadn't strangled that man to death, though... we could've pulled some information out of him so much easier from these other two. Well... can you two keep lookout?" she asked, as she began to haul Rylynn's captive into one of the nearby hovels. "Hey, help me out, here," she said, looking to the powerfully built Cimmerian.
 

BlueSlime

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#51
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Hebeny would only find a smattering of coins among the fallen men, but the bearded one that her dog and Rylynn brought back had a heavy pouch with the remainder of the Cold Brotherhood's slave budget. There was easily another 150 silvers there, if not more. They would need a safer place to count it out exactly.

As they were gathering coin, the Argossean was tearing off the men's tunics and robes, donning them in an effort to cover her body. The clothes were baggy and loose fitting, but she did not seem to mind. She also plucked up a long knife from one of the men, taking with it a belt and sheath.

A pained look crossed her features as Hebeny related what the fate of her sister might be and her knuckle grew white as she tightened her grip on her new weapon.

"Mitra preserve her. Poor Myrlena... I cannot let that happen to her. I cannot! Please, you say you might have someway of bargaining with this man. If so, then I will do anything, if only it meant that my sister would be free from that man and his sick desires!"

"Calm down. We'll see what we can do about your sister. We'd need an army to take on the man who holds her, but Hebeny's right. There's something these fellows have that might save her. Anyways... I am Jann. This here is Hebeny, as I said, and this is Rylynn."

The girl looked to the three of them and nodded slowly. "I'm Danya."

When Hebeny mentioned that it would have been better to keep the man alive, Danya regarded his body coldly.

"I'm sure he deserved what he got. I dare not have eased my grip on him. Such a man would not hesitate to kill me in his frenzy. Before we were captured, my sister and I had been living in the company of rogues. Most were not a bad sort, but there were a few who were absolute monsters. I've learned quickly not to show any mercy nor take any chance with such men. It kept us safe for years... but now, perhaps all my efforts will be for nothing, unless you can help me as you say. I'll stay with you, since I owe you my own freedom."

---

Even the poor, it seemed, made sure to have a bolt or lock in the city of thieves. So it was that the nearest hovel with an open door was long abandoned, with nothing but broken remnants of rotting wooden furniture and a half caved in roof decorating the interior. Rylynn and Jann dragged the two men inside, and then Jann stepped out to keep Danya company as the other two sat down for questioning.

The bearded man looked up groggily at the pair, then spat a bloody gob from his lips down to the floor.

"You're both dead women. The only question is how sore you'll be by the time we let you die," he growled.
 

GargantuaBlarg

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#52
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Hebeny binds the men's arms behind their backs, just for a little extra protection, in case they try to run. Their new companion, Danya, helps her make them nice, tight, and secure... knots never were the sorceresses' thing.


"I don't think what happens to us concerns you," Hebeny cooed in response to the bearded man's threat, smooth as silk. "No... you see, when I and my friends leave here, with your woman, and this lovely sack of silver, and you try to explain just how six of you were put down like lambs in a slaughterhouse... I don't think they'll care much to call you 'Brother' anymore. Your four mates died quick, but I suspect they were the lucky ones... I wonder, just how sore will you be when they let you die?"

Hebeny knelt down, and pressed her heavy breasts against the bearded man's face, sinuously sliding her body forward to straddle one of his legs, her smooth, pressing the rest of her taut, sultry form against him. "On the other hand... well. Whisper a few sweet nothings to me... and if I like what I hear, you might just get something heavenly out of all this." Blindfolded, the man would feel the sorceress drape one of her arms around his shoulders... though he wouldn't see her arrow, clutched in the other hand, ready to stab him if he tried anything funny. "Mmh, aren't you lucky your friend can't answer my questions? Come on, tough guy, spill your secrets, and I'll let you spill your seed inside me, too..."

Hebeny began to stroke the man through his trousers, her dainty hand tracing the growing outline of his organ. "What's your lord want with that Argossian girl? I'd fetch so more in the brothels, you know, and with that big sack of silver you had, I'm sure we could have worked something out... mmm, unless he just wanted to take a pretty foreign slut's maidenhead? Is that the sort he is - can't think of anything else his money on but women? Oooh, who pays you lot? With you six off his payroll, I bet I could make a nice bit of coin taking him for a ride... unless there's someone richer I should be looking for~?" Slowly, Hebeny began to slide herself on the man's leg, putting down her arrow to work the man's belt free. "I wonder how much time you and I have together... come on, darling, tell me what I want to know..."
 

BlueSlime

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#53
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

The bearded captive struggles ineffectually at his bonds as Hebeny responded and then brushed her soft mounds up against him.

"Kuh...it doesn't matter, even if I believed you, which I don't. I'm dead if I tell you. Dead if I'm not. The men who lead us. They are everywhere. We exist in the lowest brothels and the highest palaces. Neither you nor I will escape the designs of the Unspeakable One. Hnggh!"

The man spasm'd as Hebeny's soft touch ran unexpectedly along his manhood, which twitched and reacted almost immediately.

"The Argos wench? No idea. Just doing as we were told. All a part of our sacred brothers' grand designs. We get paid in our lifestyle, the Cold Brotherhood will rule the streets of Arenjun soon, taking what we want, from who we want. The money you're stealing is from an intermediary... a procurer. Someone who is not one of us, but who is a willing tool for us. And he is most protected! Or would you take on the entire Night Bazaar to get to him?"

The bearded man chuckled deeply. "Aye, we're being paid by Doban Korr, Paymaster of the Night Bazaar, Merchant Lord of Vice and favored of Bel. Does that get me access to your cunt, you foreign slut? Or maybe just a kiss?"
 

GargantuaBlarg

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#54
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Hebeny pushed the man, laying him on his back. Then, she straddled him, reaching behind herself and taking ahold of the man's member, pressing his pipe in her fingers and making sure she could feel it if he started to peak - he wouldn't be so forthcoming with his information if he was satisfied, after all. She slid her ass backwards, and pressed herself lightly against his manhood, pressing him in the cleft between her shapely rear's cheeks... and then holding him there, his crown against her pucker. "Mmm, something better. Something tighter. Ah... but not yet."

The Stygian held him by his base and slapped his rod against her backside a few times. "You know, they say jewels are a girl's best friend... I bet you lot took the Elephant's Tusk, didn't you? Does Korr have that too? And what about Erlo's favorite whore? Mmh, such sticky fingers, you folks. But I can't judge, my fingers are often sticky too." Hebeny gave a quick two pumps to the man's shaft. "Though perhaps not the same kind of sticky. Now tell me, is the governor one of your folk too? I want that Argossian's sister. My master will favor me if I gift him a pair of sisters, I think..."

I'M NOT SURE WHAT DIPLOMANCY SKILL IS USEFUL HERE BUT I TOTALLY HOPE THAT SUBTLE MISDIRECTION AT THE END QUALIFIES ME FOR BLUFFS

Also I want to be making Sense Motive checks on this fucker. (Total +7 for that.)
 

BlueSlime

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#55
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

The man stiffened more, grunting and gasping as she pumped him twice and then slapped his rod against her round, giving ass.

"What kind... of she devil are you?" He whispered as she teased him, but shook his head wildly as she continued on trying to dislodge additional information from him.

"Jewels? Nonsense. I don't know about jewels. Though sure, maybe some of us have stolen some. There's more of us than you think, girl. Keep that in mind when you're lying in bed tonight... Kuh... Korr's not one of us, like I said. Same with that rich prick, Erlo. If he had a girl and one of us liked her, then yeah, maybe one of us took her. What does it matter to you, eh? Sticking your nose in other people's business. You're going to get your pretty face cut up pretty bad. Not a threat girl, just the sad truth. Should've stayed in your dark land."
 

GargantuaBlarg

Lurker
Moderator
Sep 23, 2009
2,818
83
#56
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

"Oooh, you 'don't know'? How disappointing..." Hebeny climbed back off, and seated herself inbetween the man's legs, taking his shaft in her hand and beginning to stroke it - still as careful as ever to keep him from cumming. "A man who has his fingers on the pulse of things is quite the turn on. Come now, surely you've heard a rumor here or there, or know another guy that your ladyfriend might like to hear about~?" Hebeny replied with a smirk. After a moment, she spoke up again. "Mmn, I wouldnt've been much better off than your friends outside if I'd stayed home, love. I kinda need the money, you know? If I get a little cut up in the process, well... scars are sexy," the Stygian said with a giggle, tracing a finger along one of the man's own.

"Last round of questions, love. Who's your boss?" The sorceress leaned down, and wrapped her ample breasts around the man's cock, swallowing it up entirely within her mounds. "I want your seed painted all over my face, so give me a good answer so I can reward you... Korr just pays you for girls, right? So who's your real patron? Are they a ganger like you folks, some richfolk or nobleman? And don't tell me 'The Unspeakable One' again... he doesn't show up to tell you what to do or buy you your weapons, does he? What isthis 'Unspeakable One', anyway? "
 

BlueSlime

Tentacle God
Moderator
Aug 12, 2010
7,068
63
#57
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

The man's breathing was becoming shallower, his pleasure starting to become more evident in small struggled gasps. He clenched his teeth and grew silent as she shifted her position and began to stroke him until he was on his edge, but unable to cross over. She could tell she was putting him into a pained position and it was working.

He listened to her last round of questions in their entirety before respnding, and when he finally did, his first utterance was a low chuckle, that grew into a hearty laugh.

"Listen to the foreign whore! Unschooled in the ways of our land, yet blindly stabbing at those who would crush her! Heed my words girl and learn wisdom! Many and powerful are the gods of Zamora, but none so powerful as Omm the Unspeakable! The priests of the rival god, Zath, have long been jealous of the power of Omm, and with the aid of their High Priest Yara, drove worshipers of Omm into the shadows. But pride goes before the fall, and nearly eight years ago, the once invincible Yara was defeated, and his home, the Elephant's Tower, crumbled into dust, leaving nothing but a great crater within our city.

"Now, after centuries of oppression, Omm's followers have come forth to claim this city. Neither Zath, nor Bel, nor any other god will stand in our way! It has already begun. We are his humble servants, who shall rule the land with Omm's dark blessing. Our followers are everywhere, in every level of government. After tonight, there will be no need to hide. You can do nothing to stop it, but you may yet be spared Omm's wrath. If it is my patron you seek, I shall bring you to him. He is a priest of Omm, who hides behind a mask, for none must know his true face. Kneel before our Sacred Brother, give yourself over to the Unspeakable One, and you may be found worthy to live and serve. If you kill me, you will surely perish, but your suffering will be a tale to frighten children with before you are allowed the mercy of death. Omm shall find you. He shall find you all."


The man grew silent once again, just the occasional grunt from the pleasure torture. Hebeny sensed that the man was being genuine in his answers.
 

GargantuaBlarg

Lurker
Moderator
Sep 23, 2009
2,818
83
#58
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Hebeny ground the man's cock between her breasts in silence for a few moments in silence, letting him come down from his fervent proselytzing, and re-focus on her touch. She intensified her efforts, but continued to keep him at the razor edge of orgasm - and thought back, to see if she knew anything about Omm, or these other Zamoran gods. After giving him a bit of time to calm down and concentrate on her ministrations, Hebeny spoke again. "Death comes to us all eventually, love. Did you know that some call the sweet, sweet release of ecstasy 'The Little Death'?"

"Why do you insist on warning me about what I'm doing, love? After all, if Omm does take me, doesn't that just mean you'll get to see my pretty face in the afterlife~? Tell me where to find this Brother. Tell me what happens tonight. I'll get in lots and lots of trouble for you... I'll tell you all about it, when I see you again. Tell me, and I'll give you your sweet, sweet release... paint me white, darling. Let me be your canvas."

Hebeny wanted badly to educate this thug on the virtues of worshipping Derketo instead of this 'Omm', but... well, she didn't have the time to get into theological discussion with him just now. Why worship such an angry god, when he could instead be beholden the patron of whores and sluts, whose priestesses pride themselves on how excellent they are with their legs spread? Oh well.


I want to see what I know about Omm and such Zamorian gods using either a Knowledge is Power check (d20 + 4) or a Knowledge (Religion) (d20 + 5) check, whichever seems more appropriate.
 

BlueSlime

Tentacle God
Moderator
Aug 12, 2010
7,068
63
#59
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Hebeny's Knowledge Religion check result: 3+5 = 8. Not successful.

Hebeny considered what she knew of foreign religions, particularly those of the infamously convoluted Zhemri Pantheon. Of course, she knew that the people here put stock in beings of plotting and deceit, but also in powerful, demonic deities that defended the wicked land in return for regular, ritualized sacrifice. There were many spider gods here, so it was possible that this Omm the Unspeakable was one of them, but sadly she knew nothing else about him other than this likelihood. She had heard of Zath, whose priesthood ruled the northern Zamorian city of Yezud, but even then, she had not spent enough time here among the temples, listening to the regular theological debates that were a past time of these people, to know too many details, other than that the dancing girls of Zath were purported to be beautiful to behold.

"Omm does not take souls with him into a paradise, fool girl! Those which he consumes, he consumes completely, body and soul! Only the loyal and faithful shall be spared!" Her fanatical captive growled through clenched teeth.

"Hunfff... Cannot tell you of the Unspeakable. Can only be shown. But show you I will, foreign whore. Your skills will please our Sacred Brothers. You wish to know of our brotherhood? Then let me up, I shall take you to them. But you can get no more words out of me, for I have none to give. I am a faithful servant. So make your choice. Give me death, little or large, or if neither, then help me to my feet, that I may guide you to the knowledge you rashly seek."
 

Takimaru

Tentacle God
Moderator
Apr 22, 2010
1,493
63
#60
Re: A Wicked Age Undreamed Of

Rylynn smirked to herself a little after seeing that her gamble paid off, watching the fat man take her thrown brick right where it counted and comically fall forward into a dirty puddle. "Fucking idiot," she murmured to herself as she jogged up to his position and pulled him up by the back of his shirt.

Her quarry was large enough that attempting to drag him all the way in such a manner would simply rip his clothing, so she looped an arm around his neck and pulled him forcibly up to his feet, allowing him to stumble around before pushing him in the direction she wanted the dazed oaf to go. A kick to his lower back would send him stumbling forward and face-first into the ground when she returned to where Hebeny and the others were. Once he was down, she would pat him down for any hidden weapons or other items he might have. Finding a delightfully heavy pouch of coins, she nodded to herself in approval. They would have to count it out later.

She found Jann tending to a wound that, to her, served as proof of a proper, messy fight. "If you can handle me, you can handle that," she assured him.

Rylynn could only raise a brow at the cycling of languages made by the slave they had just rescued, but she understood at least one phrase, to which she would only respond with her own name. "Rylynn," was all that she said, but it was enough as far as she was concerned. No use telling the girl all about their mission and why they were here, she thought, although Hebeny soon beat her to it.

She would assist the Stygian in blindfolding the captives, and furrowed her brow with slight confusion at the exchange made between the other women in a language that she wasn't terribly familiar with. Figuring that Hebeny would divulge the important points of knowledge to her, she looked around to make sure that nobody else was spying.

The well-built woman had gathered some of the main points--the girl was 'Danya'. While there wasn't a great deal she could understand from the girl, she figured that the other one for sale was her sister, and that Danya was certainly desperate to get her back. Her sentiments were relatable, as Rylynn remembered a sibling that she would have gone through much of the same to protect. But now was not the time to share such stories. and so she tried her best to remain businesslike in her approach.

Then, it was time to interrogate the large, bearded man she had downed. She gave a nod to Hebeny before hoisting the slaver into the nearest empty dwelling, a dilapidated structure unfit for living in, but more than good enough for a thorough questioning.

The interrogation proved far more lewd than Rylynn expected as Hebeny began to work her magic on him. Her eyes widened slightly at first, but she soon folded her arms and pursed her lips as the man was treated to services he surely didn't deserve by the expert temptress. Still, he seemed to be talking... and that was good enough. Rylynn's expression remained flat as she fought the urge to kick the smug fool in his face for laughing and looking so confident while at the mercy of a Cimmerian.

Drawing her sword, she dug its tip into the side of the bearded oaf's throat, enough to draw blood, but little more than that, for now.

"You talk a lot. It figures that weak minded fools like you would cling to desperately to each other and to the shallow promises of some self-important god. You seem loyal and faithful enough to this Omm, but he doesn't care enough about you in return to spare you, does he? You know, I could kill you right now and you would just have to take his word that I would pay for it afterwards. And you weren't even promised a paradise? I'd say you got a raw deal. Maybe I should be your goddess instead. Your mortal fate, the one that matters, is in my hands, after all. Hebeny here can make you feel quite good--but I can make you feel very bad. You threaten us with being sore... I can do the same to you." She showed him the pommel of her sword.

While the treatment he received from Hebeny was undoubtedly pleasurable, Rylynn was there to remind him that she was not there for his amusement alone. She was not to be intimidated by his threats, not here, and not now anyway.

The barbarian girl looked to Hebeny. "So, what do we do with him? Shall I make him regret being alive? Though, I can't imagine him leading us into anything but a trap..."
 
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