The woman's eyes were sharp and crystal blue, and they watched Zakiri like a hawk as she spoke. When Zakiri had said her bit, the woman stood silently, looking at her. At length she drew close to the bars again, her face now inches from Zakiri's.
"Kiss me," the woman said.
The request was as strange as it was sudden. The woman's eyes had been lingering on the more fit males in the cages before Zakiri had made her bid to be noticed, and as they stood there facing one another through the bars, the Mistress' eyes were still open and appraising.
It occurred to Zakiri that the room, though it was filled with hundreds of slaves, was eerily quiet, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood as though she felt the weight of many eyes watching her.
The command, for that was what the woman in white had given, an order from a master to a slave rather than a request from a lover, was so unexpected, Zakiri could only stare in shock as the woman's beautiful, shining, cold, cruel eyes bored into her soul. The request was for a kiss, but it was also a show of power, a test of will, a demand for obedience despite one's objection or nature. Were she to refuse, she would undermine the very goal she strove for, but by accepting, Zakiri would be submitting, openly, totally, and before all the other slaves watching.
The girl, so used to being ignored, could feel that she was the center of attention now. Every other living being had turned to watch the spectacle, causing the normally withdrawn girl to feel every eye upon her, judging her. But it was the eyes of the woman in white that unsettled Zakiri the most. For every second she delayed, she could see the woman's interest waning. Steeling her nerves, Zakiri knew she only had one option.
Pressing her body against the bars once more, her breasts slipping between the gaps and into the open, eyes closed and fingers tight around the iron bars, Zakiri leans forward and places her chapped lips against the woman in white's own. Their softness, fullness, and sweet taste contrasted with the woman's commanding attitude, but Zakiri ignored it and continued, her lips opening as she sought access to the woman's mouth. Her tongue slowly moved forward, hesitantly pressing against the woman's teeth and then her own tongue. Her uncertainty of how deep a kiss the woman actually wanted spurs Zakiri on, doing her best to satisfy the woman's desire.
He thought perhaps he saw Kiriha's eyes widen just a touch at the mention of his loyalty, and it being bound to another woman, but he could not be sure what conclusion to draw from it.
"Halrikk," his spoken name hung on her lips as if she were savoring it's feel on her tongue. "That is a name I have not heard before. I think I like it."
He could not help but see that she was swaying slightly from side to side, like the dance of the cobra he had imagined not moments before.
"You're welcome, Halrikk, though I haven't saved you quite yet. You're still very much in mortal danger, and were you to leave my home," here she gestured outward, indicating the immediate vicinity, "you would not get far before my... distant kin caught you and made a meal out of you."
The hand on his waist began to move lower, crossing the threshold of his hipbone, and spreading its delicate fingers over the top of his thigh, ever so slowly slithering downwards along the line of his pelvis. Her forearm brushed against his shaft, seemingly innocently, but she made no indication of apology or false modesty, as her gaze ever continued to fasten with his.
"It would sadden me if that happened, Halrikk. I would much rather you lived, after all my efforts," she said. "But I'm afraid there are dreadfully few reasons my kin would accept me keeping a man like you alive... very few indeed. I have an idea, of course..."
And here Kiriha's fingers reached the hilt of Halrikk's throbbing erection, and slowly they wrapped around his shaft, until they constricted into a firm grip around his base. He could feel the blood start to well in his extremity, and then rushing back as her hand began to coax his flesh and move up and down in a fluid motion, all the while she continued to look him in the eye and sway.
"There is a way you can thank me, Halrikk. You might balk at it at first, but, I think, once you get to know me," her grip moved higher along him and her thumb now brushed against the tip of his cock. "You might not find it so bad."
Her mouth was close to him now, for she had leaned forward, and he could feel her breath on his neck. Her eyes finally moved off of his as she demurely went to kiss the nape of his neck, and it felt as though some power she had had over him lessened just enough for him to notice anything besides the look of her eyes and the feel of her touch.
And it was then that he noticed her hips had come above the level of the water, and he saw that in place of woman's legs, her body became that of a great serpent, fully scaled in the blues and greens that decorated her shoulders, arms, and parts of her face and neck. She was a naga, a serpent demoness of legend.
Halrikk grunted in pleasure as the woman began stroking him. She was very skilled, and it had been so long...but he knew that to simply go along with her was folly. He had to focus...focus.... Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of yellow he'd ever seen, and her pupils, strange though they were, only enhanced her appeal.
He found that he'd been nodding to her suggestion without intending to. He shook himself a little. "Mm, and what are you suggesting then?" His voice was heavy with lust, his thoughts were muddled. She brushed the tip of his cock again, and he almost bit his tongue as he clamped his jaw shut in surprise and to keep from exploding.
"You are a naga?" It was neither an exclamation nor an accusation, but rather a simply stated query. Now that her eyes had released his, Halrikk could see beyond the demoness' face to her serpentine lower half. He made no motion to get away from her, however.
(Continuing the Slave scene alone, for clear reasons,)
Letting her deep red hair down, Arwia didn't think anything of the slave girl seeing her naked flesh. Subconsciously, it was men alone, who she'd been led to believe would only lust after her beautifully shaped form. Her eyes half closed, Arwia sank into the arms of the girl, her soothing touch easing all the tension her body had built upon her travels. Thusly, to her questions, Arwia gave only positive responses. She laid submissively, smiling as the girl hummed to her, a soothing tune.
"That is such a beautiful song... Even as a slave, you can sing something to uplifting and bright?" Arwia asked her as the thought crossed her mind. It was a bit odd to her, that a slave could be something other than miserable and filled with dread. At the offer for a certain scent, Arwia blinked, before casually sniffing at them both, humming with delight, "Dewfruit," she decided, "It's not as fancy as the other, but it reminds me of home." she giggled.
A time passing, Arwia's bath coming to a close as she thought herself pleasantly cleaned. Her half closed eyes opened, and blinked as the girl rose, and stood before her, holding her hands out to her in a manner that made the read haired priestess blush. Then, the offer she made caused her blush to spread through her entire face. Rather than answer immediately, she remained in place with a stunned expression. Never had she thought of one woman lying with another in such a way. Even with her closest love from her church, whom she had given her first kiss to, she never even thought of how two women could do such a lewd act together.
Suddenly feeling exposed, as if her looks truly had been a factor, Arwia raised an arm to cover her breasts instinctively, swallowing a lump in her throat. Before speaking any form of denial, Arwia remembered what would happen to the girl if Arwia showed any dissatisfaction with her. A thing so lewd, she decided in her mind, would be easier to carry on her conscience, than knowing she caused the woman pain and harm.
"I-I..." she stuttered, trying to find her words, "I... Wouldn't impose it upon you," she said simply. She simply considered the possibility that the girl very likely was trained harshly to be so skilled, and likely as well, didn't find satisfaction in it, as one might find simply massaging one's muscles. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Arwia's gaze lowered, remembering that she agreed to relent. "But... I'm not one to share such feelings with one I know not the name of, or one who does not share the feeling, out of duty," she said nervously. She bit her lip a little, she wanted to rephrase that, as she wasn't sure what the result would be. She didn't want to say no, and yet, she hardly knew this girl. Wasn't such a thing, meant only for one who's heart is connected to your own?
Nadia leapt from her chair quickly, "Rouse all the men! One of those mad tribes could be attacking. Guards follow me, have the rest of the captains spread out their men around the perimeter of the village. I don't want us to be ambushed if this is a feint. I will go ahead to the west side of the village to see what is happening!" Nadia made sure that the people of the village saw her as an active leader, if she sat on her throne and religated all duties to others the people's eyes would wander elsewhere. Whenever there was an attack Nadia was one of the first there to drive it back. She was the first one outside and looking to the west for some kind of indicator of what was happening.
It took little time for Nadia to locate the source of the problem. Fire was spreading along the town's western palisade, and the wooden houses nearest were starting to catch blaze in the wind. Shouting voices, some in panic and others in anger, were clamoring together near the west gate.
Nadia swept down the street with her bodyguards in tow, and the laborers made way for her, staring after her as she went. Her presence seemed to bring confidence to their eyes, and those with fight in them fell behind her. Others snapped to attention at any orders she gave.
A shout rang out from beyond the wall, and a score of flaming bundles were launched over the wall, smashing and clinging fast to any wooden structure, of which there were many in the town. It seemed to Nadia that the projectiles were some slimy flammable substance wrapped in large jungle leaves. The bundles squelched and popped, and seemed to move on their own once they clung to the buildings, but worst of all they emitted a disconcerting screech as they moved.
"Cleanse this place with fire!" rose a voice over the wall. "Let the raiders burn for their sins against the gods!"
Reaching the top of the palisade, Nadia looked out to the edge of the jungle, where men and women dressed in tribal clothes and slathered in war paint hid amongst the treeline. In teams from different places, the attackers would sprint towards the wall, whirling a flaming bundle in their hands above their heads and letting loose against or over the wall. Defenders took their short bows and fired at the attackers - but were unable to kill or force them away before they let loose more volleys.
It was difficult to say how many might be among the trees, but Nadia estimated there could be anywhere between 40-60 attackers in the immediate vicinity.
Nadia growled as she saw the tribe in the treeline, "Gather anyone unable to fight and form fire brigades, archers equip longbows, light your arrows and aim for the trees, let's see if they like running through fire as much as they like throwing it! Tell the captains to send their best swordsmen to the west gate, we'll drive those insane tribals back into their precious jungle!" Nadia slid down the ladder off the wall and drew her sword headed to the gate as the swordsmen gathered. "One hundred gold to anyone who scores a kill or a capture, make me work out there for my money men! Open the gates!" After watching the tactics of the tribals she knew they'd most likely retreat once they charged out the gate but the faster they ended this attack the less damage would be incurred on the village. Nadia slipped out the gate as soon as it was open wide enough, blade pointed forward leading the counter attack.
The command, for that was what the woman in white had given, an order from a master to a slave rather than a request from a lover, was so unexpected, Zakiri could only stare in shock as the woman's beautiful, shining, cold, cruel eyes bored into her soul. The request was for a kiss, but it was also a show of power, a test of will, a demand for obedience despite one's objection or nature. Were she to refuse, she would undermine the very goal she strove for, but by accepting, Zakiri would be submitting, openly, totally, and before all the other slaves watching.
The girl, so used to being ignored, could feel that she was the center of attention now. Every other living being had turned to watch the spectacle, causing the normally withdrawn girl to feel every eye upon her, judging her. But it was the eyes of the woman in white that unsettled Zakiri the most. For every second she delayed, she could see the woman's interest waning. Steeling her nerves, Zakiri knew she only had one option.
Pressing her body against the bars once more, her breasts slipping between the gaps and into the open, eyes closed and fingers tight around the iron bars, Zakiri leans forward and places her chapped lips against the woman in white's own. Their softness, fullness, and sweet taste contrasted with the woman's commanding attitude, but Zakiri ignored it and continued, her lips opening as she sought access to the woman's mouth. Her tongue slowly moved forward, hesitantly pressing against the woman's teeth and then her own tongue. Her uncertainty of how deep a kiss the woman actually wanted spurs Zakiri on, doing her best to satisfy the woman's desire.
The woman's kiss was soft and welcoming, in stark contrast to her poise and noble bearing. After the initial contact, her mouth opened to allow Zakiri room to explore, which she did after a small hesitation. The woman's teeth were clean and even, and her breath was sweet. As Zakiri's tongue touched the woman's, she found herself being kissed back with a slow but firm vigor. It seemed that the mistriss was willing to be as passionate as Zakiri was willing to take the kiss, and as Zakiri feared giving less than what was expected, they were soon embroiled in a tender exchange, their mouths opening and closing, their heads twisting to allow more access and as the kiss began to wind down, the woman sucked and nibbled on Zakiri's lower lip. Her hands had instinctively risen and brushed against the slave girl's hips and waist, as though preparing to embrace her, but instead, with an effort of will, the woman began to pull back.
When finally they broke apart, Zakiri saw that the woman had closed her eyes, and suddenly she did not seem so cold. She was breathing heavily, but looked pleased, content, even reminiscent, as though she were replaying the memory of the kiss in her mind. Vaguely, Zakiri became aware of mutterings and whispers in the background, and a familiar coughing from above and behind her.
"Very good," the woman said, after she had gained some breath back. "You remind me of a lover I once had, many years ago." There was a pause, and then she said, "She hated me too, at first."
Zakiri wondered at the words as she recovered herself. This woman could not be more than five years her elder. And the idea of being compared to her lover was unsettling.
"I am Khanna, and I think you shall walk with me," she said, and then with a gesture the latch slipped away from Zakiri's cage, and it swung open.
Halrikk grunted in pleasure as the woman began stroking him. She was very skilled, and it had been so long...but he knew that to simply go along with her was folly. He had to focus...focus.... Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of yellow he'd ever seen, and her pupils, strange though they were, only enhanced her appeal.
He found that he'd been nodding to her suggestion without intending to. He shook himself a little. "Mm, and what are you suggesting then?" His voice was heavy with lust, his thoughts were muddled. She brushed the tip of his cock again, and he almost bit his tongue as he clamped his jaw shut in surprise and to keep from exploding.
"You are a naga?" It was neither an exclamation nor an accusation, but rather a simply stated query. Now that her eyes had released his, Halrikk could see beyond the demoness' face to her serpentine lower half. He made no motion to get away from her, however.
The snake woman let out a soft hiss, and her forked tongue flickered out, teasing Halrikk's ear as she continued her expert stroking of his cock.
"Can't put anything past you, can I?" she said mischievously when she withdrew her tongue. He saw her shift her weight, and beneath the surface of the pool, he felt the scales of her lower half begin to wrap around his lower legs as she began to entwine herself with him. Her hand kept pumping at a regular pace, as she sensed the way he throbbed and could tell by his grunting that he was working to hold back. It seemed she was content with prolonging his pleasure.
"You don't seem that scared though. I wonder why that is?"
Her upper body was now pressing against his left side, with her right arm behind his back and the hand on his right shoulder. She was smiling at him, showing a row of human teeth, save for where her upper canine teeth were supposed to be there were instead two withdrawn snake fangs.
After waiting for his reply, she went on to answer his first question.
"Sometimes my kin have been known to take mates from the human tribes. If I mark you as mine, you should be safe. Or at least, safer than you would be otherwise." She moves close to Halrikk and puts her moist lips to within a hair's breadth of his own before whispering, "What do you think, Halrikk? Would you like to be my mate?"
At this last question, her left hand quickened it's pace again, and the renewed assault was quickly bringing the wounded warrior to his brink.
(Continuing the Slave scene alone, for clear reasons,)
Letting her deep red hair down, Arwia didn't think anything of the slave girl seeing her naked flesh. Subconsciously, it was men alone, who she'd been led to believe would only lust after her beautifully shaped form. Her eyes half closed, Arwia sank into the arms of the girl, her soothing touch easing all the tension her body had built upon her travels. Thusly, to her questions, Arwia gave only positive responses. She laid submissively, smiling as the girl hummed to her, a soothing tune.
"That is such a beautiful song... Even as a slave, you can sing something to uplifting and bright?" Arwia asked her as the thought crossed her mind. It was a bit odd to her, that a slave could be something other than miserable and filled with dread. At the offer for a certain scent, Arwia blinked, before casually sniffing at them both, humming with delight, "Dewfruit," she decided, "It's not as fancy as the other, but it reminds me of home." she giggled.
A time passing, Arwia's bath coming to a close as she thought herself pleasantly cleaned. Her half closed eyes opened, and blinked as the girl rose, and stood before her, holding her hands out to her in a manner that made the read haired priestess blush. Then, the offer she made caused her blush to spread through her entire face. Rather than answer immediately, she remained in place with a stunned expression. Never had she thought of one woman lying with another in such a way. Even with her closest love from her church, whom she had given her first kiss to, she never even thought of how two women could do such a lewd act together.
Suddenly feeling exposed, as if her looks truly had been a factor, Arwia raised an arm to cover her breasts instinctively, swallowing a lump in her throat. Before speaking any form of denial, Arwia remembered what would happen to the girl if Arwia showed any dissatisfaction with her. A thing so lewd, she decided in her mind, would be easier to carry on her conscience, than knowing she caused the woman pain and harm.
"I-I..." she stuttered, trying to find her words, "I... Wouldn't impose it upon you," she said simply. She simply considered the possibility that the girl very likely was trained harshly to be so skilled, and likely as well, didn't find satisfaction in it, as one might find simply massaging one's muscles. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Arwia's gaze lowered, remembering that she agreed to relent. "But... I'm not one to share such feelings with one I know not the name of, or one who does not share the feeling, out of duty," she said nervously. She bit her lip a little, she wanted to rephrase that, as she wasn't sure what the result would be. She didn't want to say no, and yet, she hardly knew this girl. Wasn't such a thing, meant only for one who's heart is connected to your own?
The slave girl had seemed pleased to receive compliments and when asked about her song and her ability to be cheerful, it took her a few moments to respond. Clearly, the girl was choosing her words carefully.
"I - I'm pleased you like it so, mistress. It is a lullaby that one of the masters here taught me when I served him directly. He told me it was a secret melody, known only to a forgotten people who used to care for the birds of paradise. Master Suhail loves all lore to do with animals, and he bade me remember the song, even though it is in a foreign language that I do not understand, so that the melody would not be lost." She paused again, as she considered what she might say to satisfy Arwia's inquiry.
"It was the only command Master Suhail ever gave me while I served him, and the song sounded so beautiful, I gladly rehearsed it again and again until I knew every note. I sing it to myself every day, and it gives me happiness. And in my dreams when the moon is full, I sing it and feel as though I am a bird of paradise myself, free and flying to the far isles over the Sea of Dreams, eating exotic fruits and living among other birds with plumes as bright as rainbows. It feels so real, and the memories give me joy, even though I am a slave. It makes my heart light and the hardships I have endured, they do not seem so bad."
The girl had stopped massaging her then, and her eyes had gone skyward, with her mind far away. Suddenly, the slave regained her composure and realized Arwia's shoulders had stopped being rubbed. Blushing she hurriedly set about her task again.
"Does that answer suffice, mistress?"
The dewfruit lotion was as pleasant as it smelled, and made Arwia's skin moist and shiny. The slave girl, who was emboldened by Arwia's cordial and friendly attitude, confided that it was her preference as well, and liked having the fragrance on her hands.
When the bath was done and Awria had made a stunned and stammering response to the girl's proposal, the slave blushed and seemed to stifle a growing smile, looking down at her own two feet as if she too felt the awkwardness of the moment. It had likely been a while since the girl had been asked if she wanted to have sex - and the novelty was bringing the color to her cheeks.
"I - uhm... Taya," she said with effort, not able to look up. "My name is Taya, mistress, if it pleases you. It... it is true that my duty is to see to your every need and desire, but, I would not be unopposed to it, were it otherwise - I mean to say, if you would have me. I --" She paused, her cheeks burning red.
"I would be happy to serve you in such a manner, mistress."
Her hands went up to the cloth that looped about her neck and pulled at a strand until it loosened. She unwound it once, and the fabric fell from her neck and down to the floor, leaving her upper body exposed. Her breasts were full and perfectly proportioned for her size, and her hands moved over them and she caressed herself for Arwia to see.
"I will do whatever you want me too," Taya said, her voice growing lower and more sensual.
The snake woman let out a soft hiss, and her forked tongue flickered out, teasing Halrikk's ear as she continued her expert stroking of his cock.
"Can't put anything past you, can I?" she said mischievously when she withdrew her tongue. He saw her shift her weight, and beneath the surface of the pool, he felt the scales of her lower half begin to wrap around his lower legs as she began to entwine herself with him. Her hand kept pumping at a regular pace, as she sensed the way he throbbed and could tell by his grunting that he was working to hold back. It seemed she was content with prolonging his pleasure.
"You don't seem that scared though. I wonder why that is?"
Her upper body was now pressing against his left side, with her right arm behind his back and the hand on his right shoulder. She was smiling at him, showing a row of human teeth, save for where her upper canine teeth were supposed to be there were instead two withdrawn snake fangs.
After waiting for his reply, she went on to answer his first question.
"Sometimes my kin have been known to take mates from the human tribes. If I mark you as mine, you should be safe. Or at least, safer than you would be otherwise." She moves close to Halrikk and puts her moist lips to within a hair's breadth of his own before whispering, "What do you think, Halrikk? Would you like to be my mate?"
At this last question, her left hand quickened it's pace again, and the renewed assault was quickly bringing the wounded warrior to his brink.
"I have heard many tales of the naga. The Beduca believe you are gods, divine manifestations of the jungle. The Alsto believe you to be guardians of the forest, incarnations of its wrath." Recounting tales occupied his mind enough to allow him to mostly ignore her hand working up and down his shaft. Still, he could feel his body giving in to the pleasure, screaming for release. He quickened his telling.
"The, nngh, Ins know you as demons, who lure men to their deaths and feast on their souls. To the Popono, you, ahhn, are monsters who slaughter their livestock and burn their crops. And among my people...." He paused for a moment, lost in memory. "You are myths. Tales told by travelers to entertain and frighten."
Kiriha's question about mates brought him back to the pool, and to her. However, when her hand quickened, the archer finally reached his limit. With a low moan, he came into the pool, the viscous fluid mixing with the water, joining it in flowing towards its destination. Panting at the exertion, Halrikk glanced to the naga, looking directly into her face, scant inches from his, locking his blue eyes together with her golden pools. He still found them strangely beautiful, though not as hypnotic as he had before.
"If you desire a mate, I have no choice but to accept," the raider said between breaths. "Though I may need some time to recover."
The woman's kiss was soft and welcoming, in stark contrast to her poise and noble bearing. After the initial contact, her mouth opened to allow Zakiri room to explore, which she did after a small hesitation. The woman's teeth were clean and even, and her breath was sweet. As Zakiri's tongue touched the woman's, she found herself being kissed back with a slow but firm vigor. It seemed that the mistriss was willing to be as passionate as Zakiri was willing to take the kiss, and as Zakiri feared giving less than what was expected, they were soon embroiled in a tender exchange, their mouths opening and closing, their heads twisting to allow more access and as the kiss began to wind down, the woman sucked and nibbled on Zakiri's lower lip. Her hands had instinctively risen and brushed against the slave girl's hips and waist, as though preparing to embrace her, but instead, with an effort of will, the woman began to pull back.
When finally they broke apart, Zakiri saw that the woman had closed her eyes, and suddenly she did not seem so cold. She was breathing heavily, but looked pleased, content, even reminiscent, as though she were replaying the memory of the kiss in her mind. Vaguely, Zakiri became aware of mutterings and whispers in the background, and a familiar coughing from above and behind her.
"Very good," the woman said, after she had gained some breath back. "You remind me of a lover I once had, many years ago." There was a pause, and then she said, "She hated me too, at first."
Zakiri wondered at the words as she recovered herself. This woman could not be more than five years her elder. And the idea of being compared to her lover was unsettling.
"I am Khanna, and I think you shall walk with me," she said, and then with a gesture the latch slipped away from Zakiri's cage, and it swung open.
Though she had demanded the kiss, Zakiri is still surprised by how quickly and easily the woman in white returns it. The passionate exchange, at first a source of uncertainty, developed into one of pleasure, spurring the slave girl on to enjoy this kiss that she knew she should not. As the act slowed and the women began to part, Zakiri realized she had lost all her thoughts about striving for a better life and escape during that moment, swept away in a surge of excitement. She leaned back away from the bars, sucking in breath while heavy lidded eyes regarded the woman before her with a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity.
When Zakiri's sense of place returned, she felt a rush of warmth spreading across her face as she remembered the other slaves. Her form shrunk slightly as she folded inwards, hoping to hide her shame, but knowing she had only done what was asked by one of their mistresses. The woman's praise brings Zakiri's full attention back to her, and she nods her head slightly at the compliment, before wondering about the rest of the statement. Had the woman said that before, Zakiri would have found the idea that the seemingly cold woman would have a lover questionable. But the fate of that former lover, and the mention of her hate and implied change of opinion, led Zakiri to wonder just what had happened between them.
The words of the woman in white, Khanna, put a measure of shock into the slave girl. When she had been cleaning herself, she had hoped to draw the attention of one of the mages, but she had not expected the attention of a woman. What's more, the haughty woman was imposing, yet mysterious. Zakiri could only muse to herself that she may have leaped straight from the pot and into the fire by acting so brazenly before the woman. Still, as a slave, she had no choice but to do as the woman commanded, lest she throw away what may be her only chance of seeing the outside world again. Straightening herself up slightly, Zakiri took a tentative step through the now wide open cage door and approached Khanna, her face turned down and her hands at her side. "Yes, Mistress. I will walk with you."
Nadia growled as she saw the tribe in the treeline, "Gather anyone unable to fight and form fire brigades, archers equip longbows, light your arrows and aim for the trees, let's see if they like running through fire as much as they like throwing it! Tell the captains to send their best swordsmen to the west gate, we'll drive those insane tribals back into their precious jungle!" Nadia slid down the ladder off the wall and drew her sword headed to the gate as the swordsmen gathered. "One hundred gold to anyone who scores a kill or a capture, make me work out there for my money men! Open the gates!" After watching the tactics of the tribals she knew they'd most likely retreat once they charged out the gate but the faster they ended this attack the less damage would be incurred on the village. Nadia slipped out the gate as soon as it was open wide enough, blade pointed forward leading the counter attack.
As she predicted, the tribals were not ones for direct conflict. The men and women that would have made up the next wave of fireslingers faltered and halted a few steps out of the tree line as Nadia and her honor guard poured out of the gate and rushed at them, blades of iron threatening to overwhelm the tribals armed only with crude wooden clubs, stone axes, and flint edged spears.
As the distance closed, the fireslingers desperately flung their last charges at Nadia's company, sending the bubbling, screeching bundles of fire launching at her head before turning and fleeing into the jungle.
Nadia threw her hand out as the bundles were flung at their heads, "Dive and roll!" Nadia fell to her knees and allowed herself to tumble along the ground and under the bundles. "If you get some on you smother it in earth!"
(Nadia uses Directly and For herself to avoid the bundles? With her bonus if she had long enough to study where they were going.)
"I have heard many tales of the naga. The Beduca believe you are gods, divine manifestations of the jungle. The Alsto believe you to be guardians of the forest, incarnations of its wrath." Recounting tales occupied his mind enough to allow him to mostly ignore her hand working up and down his shaft. Still, he could feel his body giving in to the pleasure, screaming for release. He quickened his telling.
"The, nngh, Ins know you as demons, who lure men to their deaths and feast on their souls. To the Popono, you, ahhn, are monsters who slaughter their livestock and burn their crops. And among my people...." He paused for a moment, lost in memory. "You are myths. Tales told by travelers to entertain and frighten."
Kiriha's question about mates brought him back to the pool, and to her. However, when her hand quickened, the archer finally reached his limit. With a low moan, he came into the pool, the viscous fluid mixing with the water, joining it in flowing towards its destination. Panting at the exertion, Halrikk glanced to the naga, looking directly into her face, scant inches from his, locking his blue eyes together with her golden pools. He still found them strangely beautiful, though not as hypnotic as he had before.
"If you desire a mate, I have no choice but to accept," the raider said between breaths. "Though I may need some time to recover."
Kiriha made a lewd moaning "Mmmmmm...." as Halrikk gasped, quickened and released his cum into the pool, and she cooed softly as she continued milking his shaft, until his last reserves had dribbled out. Then she let his manhood drift and moved her hand to rest calmly over his beating chest.
"I have ways to make a man recover," she said suggestively, "but you should probably rest. You're not yet fully healed from your brush with death, and too much exertion will only invite sickness."
The naga unentwined her tail from Halrikk's legs, but still stayed by his side, holding him in her embrace. Her touch was protective and tender. She smiled at him, and after a few long moments of looking into his eyes she spoke again.
"Do you still think Naga's are myths? Maybe you think this is all a dream? Is that why you show no fear?" she asked him. Idly the hand that rested on his shoulder began to play with his dripping wet hair, curling it around her thin green finger. "It's amusing that of all the peoples you mentioned, yours is the only one who got it completely wrong."
She slowly moved her moist blue lips to brush against Halrikk's own, tantalizingly close to kissing him.
"I might be a demon who has lured you here to take your soul," she whispered, letting her breath shudder out slowly so that Halrikk could feel it on his face before she nipped at him again with her mouth. "Maybe that's why I've kept you? For your soul? How do the tales go Halrikk? What will I do to take your soul and make you mine forever?"
Kiriha made a lewd moaning "Mmmmmm...." as Halrikk gasped, quickened and released his cum into the pool, and she cooed softly as she continued milking his shaft, until his last reserves had dribbled out. Then she let his manhood drift and moved her hand to rest calmly over his beating chest.
"I have ways to make a man recover," she said suggestively, "but you should probably rest. You're not yet fully healed from your brush with death, and too much exertion will only invite sickness."
The naga unentwined her tail from Halrikk's legs, but still stayed by his side, holding him in her embrace. Her touch was protective and tender. She smiled at him, and after a few long moments of looking into his eyes she spoke again.
"Do you still think Naga's are myths? Maybe you think this is all a dream? Is that why you show no fear?" she asked him. Idly the hand that rested on his shoulder began to play with his dripping wet hair, curling it around her thin green finger. "It's amusing that of all the peoples you mentioned, yours is the only one who got it completely wrong."
She slowly moved her moist blue lips to brush against Halrikk's own, tantalizingly close to kissing him.
"I might be a demon who has lured you here to take your soul," she whispered, letting her breath shudder out slowly so that Halrikk could feel it on his face before she nipped at him again with her mouth. "Maybe that's why I've kept you? For your soul? How do the tales go Halrikk? What will I do to take your soul and make you mine forever?"
As Kiriha moved to tease him, Halrikk wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing his forehead against the snake-woman's, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he spoke. "Well, it depends upon who is telling the tale. Some say you tempt humans with offers of wealth, power, sex, slowly corrupting them to your will. Others would insist the naga can turn a person against their fellows, alter their thoughts, and, eventually, their body, until they actually become a naga themselves. Still others go the opposite route, claiming you can slowly change a person's body, little by little; a patch of scales here, a pair of fangs there, until they become a naga. After that, it is only a matter of time before they begin thinking like a naga." A slight smile played at the corners of the man's mouth.
"There are more, of course, but you get the general idea."
The man sighed a bit before continuing, eyes dropping off to watch the water swirl around the naga's waist as he did. "In fact, according to some tales you should be 30 feet tall. Capable of breathing fire. That your entire body should be a snake, with only the face of an old hag. In fact, I should have turned to stone as soon as I looked upon you, if some of the stories are to be believed."
He stretched his arms a bit behind Kiriha before he resumed speaking, eyes returning to match her stare. "Even if the legends were true, that wouldn't change the fact that you saved my life. I owe you a debt larger than I can repay; however," he said, his voice growing low and losing any hint of mirth it may have contained, "should you seek my soul or loyalty, I would have to decline, as each of those are spoken for." He maintained his contact with her eyes and head for a moment longer before releasing her and leaning back, bringing his elbows to rest behind him on the ledge of the pool.
"My people are most likely wrong because I may be the first from the Glorious Kingdom of Zangoval to actually spend more than a few hours in the jungle." As he said the name, he gestured expansively with his hands, but made no attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice. "I realized naga were more than mere stories on my second day in this place. I also realized you were creatures of flesh and bone, not nightmares. In fact, it wasn't long after that..." he said, trailing off, a sudden realization evident on his features. "I have to get back to my village."
After catching the look Kiriha threw his way, he hastily added, "of course, not until after I have recovered, and repaid part of the debt I owe you." Raising himself slightly out of the pool, the archer took in more of the surrounding cavern, looking around, before turning back to the woman. "When you found me, did you also find a bow?"
Though she had demanded the kiss, Zakiri is still surprised by how quickly and easily the woman in white returns it. The passionate exchange, at first a source of uncertainty, developed into one of pleasure, spurring the slave girl on to enjoy this kiss that she knew she should not. As the act slowed and the women began to part, Zakiri realized she had lost all her thoughts about striving for a better life and escape during that moment, swept away in a surge of excitement. She leaned back away from the bars, sucking in breath while heavy lidded eyes regarded the woman before her with a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity.
When Zakiri's sense of place returned, she felt a rush of warmth spreading across her face as she remembered the other slaves. Her form shrunk slightly as she folded inwards, hoping to hide her shame, but knowing she had only done what was asked by one of their mistresses. The woman's praise brings Zakiri's full attention back to her, and she nods her head slightly at the compliment, before wondering about the rest of the statement. Had the woman said that before, Zakiri would have found the idea that the seemingly cold woman would have a lover questionable. But the fate of that former lover, and the mention of her hate and implied change of opinion, led Zakiri to wonder just what had happened between them.
The words of the woman in white, Khanna, put a measure of shock into the slave girl. When she had been cleaning herself, she had hoped to draw the attention of one of the mages, but she had not expected the attention of a woman. What's more, the haughty woman was imposing, yet mysterious. Zakiri could only muse to herself that she may have leaped straight from the pot and into the fire by acting so brazenly before the woman. Still, as a slave, she had no choice but to do as the woman commanded, lest she throw away what may be her only chance of seeing the outside world again. Straightening herself up slightly, Zakiri took a tentative step through the now wide open cage door and approached Khanna, her face turned down and her hands at her side. "Yes, Mistress. I will walk with you."
"Mistress Khanna," she said, as Zakiri reached her side. "I've given you my name, so you might as well start using it."
With that she abruptly turned and started walking up the ramp to the side of the chamber where stairs led upwards through archways and passages.
"Follow on, quickly," she urged. "Don't wander."
It seemed that now Khanna had made her decision to take Zakiri with her, she was in a great haste to leave the lower levels, and she did not look back to see if Zakiri was following behind. The stone guardians were inanimate along the walkways and there were no signs of the giants or any other tower servitors about. No leash or chains compelled Zakiri to follow the woman and the thought that she was currently walking freely and could sprint in any direction she wished grew in Zakiri's mind. Khanna apparently did not fear that the slave would run away or attack her from behind.
The stairs and archways soon branched off into differing passages, and after several minutes of climbing, Zakiri looked off through an open portal in the rocks to her right, and found herself gazing down upon the cages from what must be a place very near the cavernous room's ceiling. How tall could this tower be?
Eventually they reached a wooden door, and Khanna stopped and turned for the first time to see that Zakiri was still with her.
"I recommend staying quiet when we pass through this level," Khanna told her in a hushed and deadly serious tone. "It is the abode of Jahangir and his minions of flesh. If we are silent and swift, we can avoid them. It would be better for you if we did just that. Jahangir is unpredictable and lascivious, and truly a despicable toad, but within his domain I cannot prevent his will from being worked upon you, if he discovers that you are present. Even if I claimed you, he would say it was his right to tamper with you before letting me take you above."
After Zakiri let her know that she was ready, Khanna turned again to face the door. Then after a moment's hesitation, she put both hands on the handle and pushed the door inwards, taking care to make as little noise as she could. She pushed her head in from side to side to make sure the way was clear, and then motioned for Zakiri to follow behind her.
The air was musk-filled and humid, but it was brighter here than in the caverns below. Torches were lined at regular intervals to provide some light, but a yellow and orange vapor hung about the low ceiling, looking like a billowy cloud of unclean fumes. It's strange phosphorescence bathed the surrounding area in its dull earthy, clay-like color.
The space Zakiri looked upon was like a dream-scape from some horrible nightmare of twisted metal and black, volcanic rock. The view to any direction save the door they just passed through ended about ten meter in impenetrable orange fog. Stalagmites jutted from the earth and walkways inlaid with metal work crisscrossed among the rocks. Sorrowful moans and inhuman growls sounded in the distance, through the thick clouds.
"The quickest path is to keep along the right wall and follow it to a door like the one we just went through," Khanna said without sign of fear or concern, but she looked to Zakiri once to make sure she had heard her before setting off again at a quick walking pace.
As she walked beside Khanna, Zakiri saw, or imagines she saw shapes and forms in the fog. Things that shambled unevenly on two legs, or things with none the slithered along the floor like serpents. Once or twice she saw the forms of the giants that had given her food down at the cages. They stared at both women as they briskly walked by before disappearing into the clouds.
After a few minutes of walking, Khanna spoke again. "Good. We're almost there. He must have been busy elsewh--"
She stopped dead in her tracks, and put her hand out to her side, across Zakiri's breasts to prevent her from moving forward as well. Before Zakiri had time to think or to perceive whatever it was Khanna was worried about, she found herself being thrown roughly into a side passage where she landed hard on her rump, but strangely made no sound.
She looked up to see a Khanna, who had been the one to toss her down, had her hand up, palm facing towards Zakiri. The air in front of it was shimmering as though in a heat haze. When Zakiri opened her mouth to speak, she found that she created no noise, and that the shimmering in the air near Khanna's palm became more active.
Then with a shock, she saw the tall, muscular shape of Jahangir emerge from the clouds directly in front of where they had been walking.
"Hello, Khanna..." came the same deep and cruel voice. "I though I had sensed you moving through here a little while ago. Come to choose another model then? Another man or two to satisfy your artist's urges? Mmm? Well? Where is he? You wouldn't bother coming here just to leave empty handed."
His voice was slow and mocking, as if he perceived Khanna's deception before she even began her lie.
"I would if the selection of models was as poor as this last batch was," Khanna said, her face reverting into casual coolness. "You know I settle for nothing less than inspiring, and I have determined that once again, everything that lurks down here is wholly depressing at best, and disgusting at worst. Speaking of disgusting, how goes your latest desecration?"
With her hands hidden behind her back, Khanna was making a repeated gesture, apparently waving Zakiri away.
A deep chuckle rumbled from Jahangir's massive throat, "Always playing hard to get, aren't you Khanna. We both know that you pretend to hate me, but your body has always given away your true feelings. Your desire for me."
"You're a deranged pile of bat shit, Jahangir," Khanna said harshly, "the very thought of you sickens me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do, and two new apprentice mages to to analyze. You'll probably want to wipe the blood and bile off your jerkin before coming to the dinner as well, so perhaps we should both be on our separate ways?"
Khanna made to stride past Jahangir, but a meaty arm shot out and barred her way.
"I smell her, Khanna," he growled, and then, he sniffed at Khanna's lips. "I smell her stink on you."
"I don't know what you're talking about, but if it's stench you're bothered by, then concern yourself with your own."
Again, Khanna made to go by him, but he moved his bulky form quickly to block her.
"It's been over 50 years since you last concerned yourself with licking cunt," Jahangir said as a knowing grin spread across his face. "What's the matter, Khanna, those boy toys not living up to my cock? Did I stretch you too far and now no other man can satisfy you?"
A chilling blast sucked the heat out of the nearby air and Jahangir roared with a mixture of pain and laughter as he fell to one knee and gripped his side. Khanna had cast a minor spell and was now storming past him, her calm demeanor gone and replace by a mask of anger. Turning once she was past him, she spat at him.
"Mention that ever again and I swear I'll have a team of golems trample that precious body of yours into paste!" she hissed.
Jahangir recovered and sniffed the air. "Promises, promises," he intoned with a deep chuckle. "But I'm going to find your pretty little prize before she leaves here with you. My creations and I are going to have some fun with her."
The icy glare remained in Khanna's eyes. "Whatever wild goose chase you wish to go on is not my concern. You can stay down here all week searching for some non-existent slave for all I care, it shall make tonight's dinner at least more palatable!"
With that, Khanna stalked off into the clouds, and Zakiri knew she would have to make it to the exit on her own.
To anyone watching it would look almost impossible, Nadia slid, and seemed to uncontollablely tumble on the ground a moment before standing up and hardly breaking her stride. She plowed into the treeline, "Ignore the men! Get their women!" The voice Nadia had heard shouting from the treeline had been female from that she gathered that this was a matriarical tribe and the men were little more than workers and soldiers, she looked for the woman with the most elaborate paint and threw herself onto her trying to capture the leader of this little tribe.....
(Since the tribe failed their roll so badly, Kiana gets captured by Nadia?)
The slave girl had seemed pleased to receive compliments and when asked about her song and her ability to be cheerful, it took her a few moments to respond. Clearly, the girl was choosing her words carefully.
"I - I'm pleased you like it so, mistress. It is a lullaby that one of the masters here taught me when I served him directly. He told me it was a secret melody, known only to a forgotten people who used to care for the birds of paradise. Master Suhail loves all lore to do with animals, and he bade me remember the song, even though it is in a foreign language that I do not understand, so that the melody would not be lost." She paused again, as she considered what she might say to satisfy Arwia's inquiry.
"It was the only command Master Suhail ever gave me while I served him, and the song sounded so beautiful, I gladly rehearsed it again and again until I knew every note. I sing it to myself every day, and it gives me happiness. And in my dreams when the moon is full, I sing it and feel as though I am a bird of paradise myself, free and flying to the far isles over the Sea of Dreams, eating exotic fruits and living among other birds with plumes as bright as rainbows. It feels so real, and the memories give me joy, even though I am a slave. It makes my heart light and the hardships I have endured, they do not seem so bad."
The girl had stopped massaging her then, and her eyes had gone skyward, with her mind far away. Suddenly, the slave regained her composure and realized Arwia's shoulders had stopped being rubbed. Blushing she hurriedly set about her task again.
"Does that answer suffice, mistress?"
The dewfruit lotion was as pleasant as it smelled, and made Arwia's skin moist and shiny. The slave girl, who was emboldened by Arwia's cordial and friendly attitude, confided that it was her preference as well, and liked having the fragrance on her hands.
When the bath was done and Awria had made a stunned and stammering response to the girl's proposal, the slave blushed and seemed to stifle a growing smile, looking down at her own two feet as if she too felt the awkwardness of the moment. It had likely been a while since the girl had been asked if she wanted to have sex - and the novelty was bringing the color to her cheeks.
"I - uhm... Taya," she said with effort, not able to look up. "My name is Taya, mistress, if it pleases you. It... it is true that my duty is to see to your every need and desire, but, I would not be unopposed to it, were it otherwise - I mean to say, if you would have me. I --" She paused, her cheeks burning red.
"I would be happy to serve you in such a manner, mistress."
Her hands went up to the cloth that looped about her neck and pulled at a strand until it loosened. She unwound it once, and the fabric fell from her neck and down to the floor, leaving her upper body exposed. Her breasts were full and perfectly proportioned for her size, and her hands moved over them and she caressed herself for Arwia to see.
"I will do whatever you want me too," Taya said, her voice growing lower and more sensual.
How awkward... That was the best way Arwia could describe it in her mind. Arwia, who thought all humanoid races equal, had a young girl, forced into slavery, calling her mistress time, and time over. She did not wish to rock the foundation of the order, by attempting to change the ways of the slave's teachings, and likely causing more disruption than she planned to, but it was another little thing, just like the slaves below, who traveled, and suffered in those caves, that did manage to crawl into her mentality, and create a chaos that she could not sit idly with.
"Please..." Arwia spoke up after Taya inquired about her liking the answer she gave, "My name is Arwia... I would rather not think you were so obliged to me, that you were required to call me mistress..." she told her, voicing her troubled thoughts.
The story of this man, Suhail, sounded odd. Arwia assumed true, that he was a high figure in this tower. But her story did not match with that of the tower's, that the masters of it only caused harm and grief. And while Arwia took a moment to consider it, she shook her head. This man likely knew very well, the suffering that went on. And in Arwia's mind, to sit by, and do nothing to stop the suffering of another, is just as bad as being guilty of it. Besides... Taya would likely suffer, if she spoke ill of her masters.
It was a crime, Arwia thought to herself as she watched the girl blush, and hesitate. A crime that the girl seemed to have a conflict in her heart. Despite what the girl said, the part she mentioned where it was true, that the girl was supposed to be ready to do such a thing on her command, was enough for Arwia's ears. She would not force the girl to do it. Today, Arwia wanted to give the girl peace. A time to rest. To rest in the arms of the goddess, away from the insufferable blight of heart.
She was nearly ready to simply embrace the girl, and tell her everything was fine. She didn't have to worry, or be frightened. At least not of Arwia herself. She wanted to promise her, and all of the suffering slaves, that she would put an end to it, and the tower itself. She would break the foundation of the silver tower, and let everyone return to their homes with the money from the tower's treasury, or even make their own homes, and start anew. 'I will end the blight,' Arwia swore once more in the sanctuary of her mind. 'And I will save you from this life, Taya. I will personally welcome you into the order of the goddess, and you will never know suffering again.'
Arwia smiled, even as she looked down at herself. However, the following words of Taya, and her disrobing in front of her, brought a small surprise to Arwia. Even as Taya searched her mind for it, Arwia understood what she meant. Her lower lip quivered with an emotion close to fear, but not quite.
"You... You can't mean that," Arwia concluded, looking to Taya, "Please, Taya, I mean what I say when, you should not feel under obligation to me! I..." Arwia quickly turned her head away, hiding her face under a wave of her blood red hair. The sight of Taya's full breasts, not just the sight of it, but the reason they were shown to her, filled her with an emotion she had not the courage to define within herself. "I only wish... For your happiness..." She bit her lower lip. That was again, not what she wanted to say. Truly, it was taken from her teachings as a priestess of the order. It was their job to ensure happiness in all creatures of the goddess.
"I-I mean..." She stuttered as well as Taya had, the slave's seductive voice having rooted itself in her mind. "I know that sounded strange..." she blushed heavily with shame. "But... You... You would be my first if... And... It would scar me for life if I knew it was out of duty, or without love..." she explained. Perhaps it really was fear she felt.
As Kiriha moved to tease him, Halrikk wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing his forehead against the snake-woman's, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he spoke. "Well, it depends upon who is telling the tale. Some say you tempt humans with offers of wealth, power, sex, slowly corrupting them to your will. Others would insist the naga can turn a person against their fellows, alter their thoughts, and, eventually, their body, until they actually become a naga themselves. Still others go the opposite route, claiming you can slowly change a person's body, little by little; a patch of scales here, a pair of fangs there, until they become a naga. After that, it is only a matter of time before they begin thinking like a naga." A slight smile played at the corners of the man's mouth.
"There are more, of course, but you get the general idea."
The man sighed a bit before continuing, eyes dropping off to watch the water swirl around the naga's waist as he did. "In fact, according to some tales you should be 30 feet tall. Capable of breathing fire. That your entire body should be a snake, with only the face of an old hag. In fact, I should have turned to stone as soon as I looked upon you, if some of the stories are to be believed."
He stretched his arms a bit behind Kiriha before he resumed speaking, eyes returning to match her stare. "Even if the legends were true, that wouldn't change the fact that you saved my life. I owe you a debt larger than I can repay; however," he said, his voice growing low and losing any hint of mirth it may have contained, "should you seek my soul or loyalty, I would have to decline, as each of those are spoken for." He maintained his contact with her eyes and head for a moment longer before releasing her and leaning back, bringing his elbows to rest behind him on the ledge of the pool.
"My people are most likely wrong because I may be the first from the Glorious Kingdom of Zangoval to actually spend more than a few hours in the jungle." As he said the name, he gestured expansively with his hands, but made no attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice. "I realized naga were more than mere stories on my second day in this place. I also realized you were creatures of flesh and bone, not nightmares. In fact, it wasn't long after that..." he said, trailing off, a sudden realization evident on his features. "I have to get back to my village."
After catching the look Kiriha threw his way, he hastily added, "of course, not until after I have recovered, and repaid part of the debt I owe you." Raising himself slightly out of the pool, the archer took in more of the surrounding cavern, looking around, before turning back to the woman. "When you found me, did you also find a bow?"
Kiriha followed him with her gaze as he got up and looked about the pool.
Halrikk could see that he was in the center of what looked to be a temple of some sort, and he could see shafts of daylight streaming down through holes in the ceiling some 40 yards in a direction he decided to call south. To the west and east were walls each about 20 yards away, with identical stone staircases, broken in places by years of neglect, heading upwards to a landing and then turning in on themselves as the continued their ascent. To the north the elevation of the floor raised steadily and then a few steps led to a circular dias, on top of which was a raised stone circle, covered with pillows of all shapes and sizes, and around them all were four ornate stands on top of which were place glowing blue gems that gave the illusion of moonlight over that area of the temple.
"Your bow is safe," Kiriha said as she rose up and moved closer to him. "I took it with me when I found you."
The naga slid past him and pushed herself out of the pool. When she was fully out of the water, Halrikk saw that her tail was almost three times as long as her legs would have been were she fully human. The tail looked powerful, but was not thick or bulky. Altogether she appeared lithe, agile, and alluring.
"However, you should know something before you take your bow and run off to your village and your woman." she said the last word with a touch of venom in her tone. As she continued to speak, she went to the dais and settled down in front of it.
"I have already told my kin of my intent to take you as my mate, and they expect the ceremony to take place as soon as you are well enough to consummate the arrangement. If you do not follow through, they will kill you for certain, and possibly myself as well. Under our own laws, humans are for food or for pleasure, then food. The only exception to this is for the purpose of taking a mate. It is a commitment, bound in our magics, and is not dissimilar to the act of marriage."
She looked over her shoulder at him, and then uncovered a rug at the base of the stone circle, to reveal Halrikk's bow, and a quiver of arrows that was not familiar to him.
"So you see, we are both of us in an uncomfortable situation. To save you, I have had to promise something you are apparently unwilling to give."
She turned to face him and waited for him to say something. Her eyes were searching, as if she was looking to Halrikk for some sign.
To anyone watching it would look almost impossible, Nadia slid, and seemed to uncontollablely tumble on the ground a moment before standing up and hardly breaking her stride. She plowed into the treeline, "Ignore the men! Get their women!" The voice Nadia had heard shouting from the treeline had been female from that she gathered that this was a matriarical tribe and the men were little more than workers and soldiers, she looked for the woman with the most elaborate paint and threw herself onto her trying to capture the leader of this little tribe.....
Nadia soon spots her quarry, for it is the only one among the tribe who is not running. Dark skinned and painted in bands of red along her thighs, torso, arms and face, she is dressed in a top and loincloth made from the pelt of a red leopard - a rare and massive creature. She brandishes a short metal blade - rare for tribals to possess - and a bronze covered shield, splashed with red war paint. The rebel watches with frustration as her tribe scatters and she realizes too late that the raiders have moved to close off her exit routes.
The rebel doesn't see Nadia approach, swift and silent as a leopard. With a leap, Nadia is upon the leader, and their bodies crash to the earth. The woman struggles mightily, but it is not long before Nadia's guard are upon them, and have their blades angled at the woman's neck.
With a grunt of frustration the woman takes her hands off of Nadia's garments, which had become loose in the struggle. It is when she gets to her feet that Nadia first notices the woman's strange features. Her ears, which had at a distance been hidden by the wild mane of black hair that hung down to the small of her back, are higher on her head than a human's should be, and more than that, they are tufted and covered in red fur. A tail, which at first she had thought was a part of the woman's leopard skin garments, is in fact attached to her body. And a glance at her hands shows that her nails are sharp like claws.
One of Nadia's guards makes a low whistle of admiration, and moves the tip of his blade to the strand that holds on the girl's top. With a quick flick, the girl bats the flat of the blade away and glares at the man in defiance.
"This is a rare find," says one guard. "A real live cat woman."
"I thought they were just myths," said another.
"No," said a third, "There's a whole bunch of 'em in the shrines at Goloa. Worshipping some cat goddess, I've heard."
"Amazing," breathes the second guard, who had been the one to have his sword batted aside.
The men then look questioningly at Nadia for their orders. The rest of the tribals seem to have been driven off back into the jungle.
How awkward... That was the best way Arwia could describe it in her mind. Arwia, who thought all humanoid races equal, had a young girl, forced into slavery, calling her mistress time, and time over. She did not wish to rock the foundation of the order, by attempting to change the ways of the slave's teachings, and likely causing more disruption than she planned to, but it was another little thing, just like the slaves below, who traveled, and suffered in those caves, that did manage to crawl into her mentality, and create a chaos that she could not sit idly with.
"Please..." Arwia spoke up after Taya inquired about her liking the answer she gave, "My name is Arwia... I would rather not think you were so obliged to me, that you were required to call me mistress..." she told her, voicing her troubled thoughts.
The story of this man, Suhail, sounded odd. Arwia assumed true, that he was a high figure in this tower. But her story did not match with that of the tower's, that the masters of it only caused harm and grief. And while Arwia took a moment to consider it, she shook her head. This man likely knew very well, the suffering that went on. And in Arwia's mind, to sit by, and do nothing to stop the suffering of another, is just as bad as being guilty of it. Besides... Taya would likely suffer, if she spoke ill of her masters.
It was a crime, Arwia thought to herself as she watched the girl blush, and hesitate. A crime that the girl seemed to have a conflict in her heart. Despite what the girl said, the part she mentioned where it was true, that the girl was supposed to be ready to do such a thing on her command, was enough for Arwia's ears. She would not force the girl to do it. Today, Arwia wanted to give the girl peace. A time to rest. To rest in the arms of the goddess, away from the insufferable blight of heart.
She was nearly ready to simply embrace the girl, and tell her everything was fine. She didn't have to worry, or be frightened. At least not of Arwia herself. She wanted to promise her, and all of the suffering slaves, that she would put an end to it, and the tower itself. She would break the foundation of the silver tower, and let everyone return to their homes with the money from the tower's treasury, or even make their own homes, and start anew. 'I will end the blight,' Arwia swore once more in the sanctuary of her mind. 'And I will save you from this life, Taya. I will personally welcome you into the order of the goddess, and you will never know suffering again.'
Arwia smiled, even as she looked down at herself. However, the following words of Taya, and her disrobing in front of her, brought a small surprise to Arwia. Even as Taya searched her mind for it, Arwia understood what she meant. Her lower lip quivered with an emotion close to fear, but not quite.
"You... You can't mean that," Arwia concluded, looking to Taya, "Please, Taya, I mean what I say when, you should not feel under obligation to me! I..." Arwia quickly turned her head away, hiding her face under a wave of her blood red hair. The sight of Taya's full breasts, not just the sight of it, but the reason they were shown to her, filled her with an emotion she had not the courage to define within herself. "I only wish... For your happiness..." She bit her lower lip. That was again, not what she wanted to say. Truly, it was taken from her teachings as a priestess of the order. It was their job to ensure happiness in all creatures of the goddess.
"I-I mean..." She stuttered as well as Taya had, the slave's seductive voice having rooted itself in her mind. "I know that sounded strange..." she blushed heavily with shame. "But... You... You would be my first if... And... It would scar me for life if I knew it was out of duty, or without love..." she explained. Perhaps it really was fear she felt.
Taya paused and once again concern flashed on her face and she became unsure of herself. She listened to Arwia's protests and gasped as she heard Arwia's admission of virginity. Finally, at the mention of love, she smiled nervously, and brought her hands down to her sides.
"I understand," she said, and moved to kneel down by Arwia's side. "Mistress Arwia is as kind and as caring as she is beautiful, and you wish me to lay with you out of my own desire, and for no other reason."
She reached out and brushed her hand along Arwia's cheek, and then, leaning forward, pressed her lips softly against the priestess' own in a light kiss. It was quick and affectionate, and as she drew away, Taya smiled reassuringly.
"Never in my life," she began again, "Even before I came to this tower, have I lain with someone by my own choice. Every such experience that I have had, has been forced upon me. My first time came not long after my first moon blood, when I was married by my family to a man of another tribe -- sold would be a better word -- for two female goats and a dozen hens. He barely spoke to me, except to tell me to lie down and do my duty as his wife. It was not long after that when I was captured and brought here. And various masters and mistresses here have used me as they see fit, and even tampered and... changed me from what I once was. Never once was I given a choice.
"Not all the masters and mistresses who come to this tower are unkind, but those that are good tend to leave or disappear. I think that you too will soon leave, and when you do, I will be most happy for you."
She then took Arwia's hand in her own and gripped it tightly.
"But you have given me a choice, even though I am a slave, and to that I say yes. If you would have me, mis-- Arwia, -- I would be both honored and happy because... for me... it would also be a first. It would be making love..."
