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| The Blooming City; Calliope | |
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| Topic Started: May 26 2016, 09:42 AM (224 Views) | |
| Sorel | May 26 2016, 09:42 AM Post #1 |
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I'm just a simple man trying to make my way in this world.
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tw: sexual The slow trot of horses was the only sound that dispelled that of the forest around Madrid. The group of mercenaries advanced without hurry, for their latest contract had been completed and the gold in their purses was enough to keep the lot happy. Banners of faded green and white stood proudly at the front, held by bannerman that flanked the leader on the front. Twin ivory wolves and a tree flapped in the breeze that rustled the emerald leaves of the forest as they neared Madrid. A rest well earned after a skirmish that cemented the coming of a company. For that much, Sorel was glad. He turned to see those behind him. Mostly Grey cloaks and leather armor and sparse chainmaille. Others would prefer a cuirass and vambraces more protection. Some rode on horses while the rest continued their slow march, talking to each other in a jolly mood. However it wasn't just the morale that could be found in these men. It was perhaps that not all of the were human like he was. Elves, Drows, Trolls and Dwarves and even the occasional Dryad, mingled with those of mankind. He didn't care from where there came, they could be lowborn or highborn, born from the towers of a great city or the depths of a swamp. No, his only concern was their ability to fight, their will to survive. Gold had brought many, yes, but perhaps the sense of camaraderie between outcasts he been the stone upon which the Iron Banners had been built. Madrid drifted into his thoughts, as he began to consider how the people at Soto detested those of their trade. Mercenaries were only motivated by the coin they could receive, it was said. It wasn't a lie. But his company at least, honored the contracts and shared the loot and plunder with each member. Madrid was only a stop. To replenish provisions and weapons, to rest the soul and body even for a few hours before they went to look for another job. However all consideration, all planning of what to do, came to a halt as the view of Madrid came into their eyes. Whispers came from behind him, as no one, not even the faekind would believe what was before them. As the once proud city, with the stone halls on it's crown and the the wooden domiciles on its sloops was covered by a verdant forest, of trees and wines and blooming flowers. Towers of trees rose to the skies in a spiral against each other, with leaf like banners swinging on the wind, roots took a firm grip as the towers built from the rock of the mountains stood unopposed, taking the breath of many of his company. Swarms of fairies flew over them, flapping their tiny wings and releasing sparkling dust over the dumbstruck spectators as birds, tiny and of their size flew around them, chirping while the fae returned with laughter, only to fly higher and higher to the maze of green daggers that were the top of the forest until they disappeared. The sudden sound of tensing bowstrings alerted Sorel and the rest of his company. His eyes darted around, seeing the shape of scouts on the trees, the bushes and rocks around the path. While a trio stood closing the byway. "The path is closed human." The lead talked to him in a serious tone. "Take your company and leave." "My kin." One of his bannermen, an elf who went by Haldir stepped in, bringing forth his horse as he came closer to the leader of the scouts, dismounting his steed and pulling down his cloak so he could look at the other elf to the eyes. "Sorel is our Captain, and aye, he is a human, but among our ranks not only are elves and humans, but also those from the fae kind, trolls, dwarves, satyrs and even a dryad our two. No one is kept as a slave, we fight for each other." The elf took would take a look at Sorel and then to the men to his side and those that rode and marched behind him. Giving a slight nod of approval. "Very well, you may come, but do not give us a reason to regret our hospitality." "Thank You." Sorel said, gently kicking the sides of his mare with his spurs, prompting the company to move again as the elven scouts retreated and opened the path yet again. The city, old and new loomed over them as a green spear that rose from the earth. Sorel could remember the first time he had set foot within this city and how the stench coming from the slums had wafted over him. But as they entered the city, under the watchful eyes of guards, ranging from Satyrs to Elves, he would feel the sweet scent of blossoms, grass and rich earth. His gaze shifted from side to side as everything he knew remained but someone it had changed as nature had overtaken the city, allowing the new population and the old one as well, to live. In his mind he began to consider what had happened. While on his stay on the Kaadian Way, he had heard about the battle, of the fae led by a spirit of the deep forests laying siege to Madrid. Yet he had not truly believed that the battle would end against the guildmasters and their ancient city. Placing this problems aside, the company finally stopped in what was the market, as gave instructions to his quartermaster and leftenants to procure as much as they could. Some of his men, man and elf alike, decided to seek other a watering hole, hoping that they would take their gold. As some, like him, decided to explore. He walked slowly through the new city come to life, recognizing the beauty that had been brought. Yet he turned to see new establishments, more inns for many species, shops and stands that had been erected from the very nature. As well brothels that seemed to quench the lusts of many of the new residents. Seeing that he had nothing better to do, he simply stepped in, as nymphs dressed in light silks would seemingly float. He went towards the collector of the gold, the alleged owner of the brothel. Placing a bag of gold before the Satyr, he gave a polite smile. "I'd like some of your girls to keep me company." The satyr only nodded and Sorel felt the embrace of lithe arms around him that carried him away. Edited by Sorel, Jun 18 2016, 08:55 AM.
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| Calliope | May 27 2016, 04:44 PM Post #2 |
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Goddess of Erth'netora
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| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | The spring had come quickly, bringing rain with it, but it was a lovely day today. The new season sparked a new beginning for them all. The Mother's army was still defending against attacks from the Zaubers, as well as preparing for the next siege when they would march to Reine. Even Llewellyn trained and meditated with the children and other druids for longer and harder hours than ever before. Of course, the young and innocent would not fight, but she needed to be ready, in case she was called to serve on the battlefield once more. She did not need to wait long at all. The Druidic Triumvirate entered the School one day speaking of a band of mercenaries entering the city. Llewellyn was to help the Mother spy on the individuals, particularly a human one, and that she would find some of them at the brothel. She was to meditate and prepare her soul for the journey her mother was to take when she entered it. Llewellyn did as she was told and made her way over to the brothel. "Well, don't you look lovely, sweetheart. My, my! Every day you grow more beautiful! Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?" "No," she chimed in with a lovely voice aimed at the bearded satyr. "Once again, Llewellyn, I am thankful you are not one of my girls. Because if you were, it would be entirely my responsibility of fighting off the vultures that would be upon you without my permission." "It is a good thing I am not one of your girls. I am sent on a mission by the Mother to spy on the mercenaries that enter here." "You aren't going to go in like that, are you?" "What is wrong with my clothes?" "No need to take offense, lass. You wear fine robes indeed. But this is a brothel, and you, are after, a man. In fact, I'm sure you would look even lovelier without them on, don't you?" Llewellyn blushed. He winked, then trotted off. She sighed and headed for a waiting room where she could remove her sacred attire. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room with her palms clasped, she meditated, and allowed for her Goddess to enter her body and mind. Meadaigh opened the door and walked towards the human with a tall and steady stride. The nymphs looked to her all at once, sensing the new and powerful presence in the room. Realizing who's presence they were in the midst of, they began to silently drift away into their own rooms, until finally, the Mercenary and the Dryad were left alone in the brothel. Meadaigh stood over him, watching him steadily with alluring, bicolored eyes. The man was utterly helpless against the pheromones that the nymphs produced; they had succeeded in seducing him, and he simply laid there, completely hypnotized and with nary a piece of cloth on his handsome visage. His world must have been spinning by now, but he would not become undone just yet. She would be the one to peel back his skin layer by layer. She would peel him back until he was nothing, but a cowering little boy, a lump in his throat and pain in his chest, crying for something that no longer existed. Meadaigh wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing him close to her, tasting herself on his lips. She felt his skin, his taut muscles underneath her fingertips. When she pulled away, she grinned wickedly. "Where do you come from, soldier of fortune?" Edited by Calliope, May 27 2016, 05:11 PM.
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| Sorel | May 27 2016, 09:50 PM Post #3 |
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I'm just a simple man trying to make my way in this world.
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It was all too sudden, as like a solitary feather on the wind he was carried by the entourage of nymphs to a secluded room in the brothel. His eyes would scan for one second the layout as the warm ochre colors, tapestry and the slowly burning incense of the locale remained mostly untouched of what he had remembered from his earlier travels, indicating that perhaps the Satyr had assumed ownership of the edifice not too long ago. His view and appreciation of the furniture was interrupted by the lovely visage of forest and river maidens that surrounded him. A sight that brought a smile upon his tired features. In his eyes he saw them, dancing around him with a soft gait, almost as if they glided on the smokey air full of incense. Sorel appraised them, their skin ranging from pale as freshly fallen snow on the first day of winter, to a darkly tanned akin to fallen leaves of autumn. Curls of rich black hair, golden braids and fiery red in a straight fashion fell in absolute grace as some form of cascade, as formations of wildflowers, peppermint, lavender and laurels interwoven with each other crowned the tops of their heads, leaving a sweet scent in their wake that would pleased anyone. Indeed he could already fill the weight on his shoulders slowly being lifted. Two of them took both of his hands, which fell as delicate and soft as silken. The mercenary felt delighted. However there was a modicum of precaution that he would always take. Lessons from the past were the ones he was mostly eager to learn. After all, the sweet scents that came from their crowns hid those that aroused men into their spell. Slipping from the hold of one of the flawless woman, his hands dove into his pocket, retrieving small squares of clothes, with a quick motion he inclined his head, placing the small squares into his nostrils, the overwhelming mixture of the incense and herbs and flowers still present, as well as the spell of the pheromones, but at least he hope to remain lucid enough should anything pass. Madrid may seem friendly towards his kind to a certain extend, but even the most beautiful and warm of women would be cold and murderous. This much he knew. After passing the threshold of the room assigned to him and his companions. Cushioned seats on each corned and a singled bed covered by light shroud were present. The swift hands and fingers of the nymphs worked their way around his clothes, releasing the rounded iron brooch that kept the long cloak clasped around his neck. While others unfastened the leather jerkin and white tunic that covered his torso. Slowly the laid him over the bed, his head resting against the lap of one of the woman, as the rest traced the skin of his torso and shoulders with fingers and lips. True it was that by now he felt a certain level of calmness, provided from the naturality of the nymphs as for now he allowed himself to be subject of their tender caress, from time to time, one would venture to find his lips, only for him to answer back, it went on as he seeped into a relaxed state that had washed the worries of battle and campaign away. Now sitting against cushions, he kept both arms around the waist of nymphs, as a third embraced him from behind, pecking against his neck. It was then when they suddenly stooped, a cloth that shielded his view, clouding his sight. Before any protest could be risen from his mouth, he felt the touch of a fourth. By touch as light and fair as her predecessor, skin as soft the earliest of blooms and a scent of rich earth, mingled with grass and other scents that he couldn't simply grasp upon. He felt her lithe arms around his neck, as she brought her body to his and their lips slowly clashed against one and the other. Where it not for her odd question, he would have thought she was the next step on the services he had contracted. His hand raising to his face, he pulled the cloth that had shielded his sight, approving the lovely elf that embraced him, not minding at all the traced lines on her body. Sorel regarded her for a second before answering, even with the slighted effect of the pheromones in him. "That Satyr must have hidden the best of the orchard from me as a surprise." He gave her a soft smile as he placed both of his hand on her hips, as well as taking notice of the rest of her being, including the different coloration of her eyes. "Yet I must ask why would such beauty as yourself has any desire to know from where have I rode?" |
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| Calliope | Jun 18 2016, 08:47 AM Post #4 |
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Goddess of Erth'netora
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tw; sexual The brothel was cool, but they were warm as their skin touched, as their lips melted upon each other. What a funny thing it was to have death treading its remorseless way toward him, only to turn out to be a pretty young girl with bare feet. The poor man was as clueless as a pirate wearing two eyepatches. "My line of work can be dull at times," she sighed, passing her long fingers through his soft brown locks. "Stories are what get me through the long days, my dear ser." Her eyes were fixated upon him in a radiant, colorful stare; she was making him her only interest. She traced a path with her finger on his bare ribs. Men were too easy. They seemed not to be terribly rational creatures. Blinded by lust and beauty. Driven by emotions, they make decisions for foolhardy reasons, which they then do their best to rationalize. One needed only to become aware of their motivators, then manipulating them became easier than rolling off a log. All she needed to do was to give him attention and to pacify or placate him by acceding to their demands, by appeasing his innermost carnal desires. Meadaigh's hand slowly slid up his thigh. "So, what is your story? What brings such a rugged creature to this... 'blooming'... city?" Edited by Calliope, Jun 18 2016, 08:50 AM.
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| Sorel | Jun 25 2016, 12:10 AM Post #5 |
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I'm just a simple man trying to make my way in this world.
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tw: sexual Under the influence of the pheromones from the nymphs, everything had felt softer. The presence of the elf even more so. Whatever coolness that would gooseprickle was replaced by her warmness and the touch of her skin against his, a sensation almost as soft as that of the petals of a blooming flower. However with time passing so would the effect of the pheromones of the now absent creatures of the forest. The mercenary could feel her touch as her fingers traced a path against his ribs to then land on his thigh, not with the same feeling as being in a cloud, but more as if the experience became something more mundane, certainly enjoyable, but also certainly mundane. "Boring?" Sorel chuckled in incredulity, his hand slicing against her bare back. "Siege's most seem something ordinary for you then?" For an instant he simply peered back at her, sharing a long stare and brief silence. Prostitutes existed in many forms and many colors. In his experience there were those that never yielded the chance to talk, lively as no one could imagine. There were also those, colder than glacier, something only peculiar individuals decided to waste their money in. Of course there were ones, such as this woman, who decided to be more intimate with their patron. However there was something very strange, something he could not tap at a simple glance. While any lust or carnal desire he had would cloud his mind, behind her honeyed words and kisses a slight flavor of deceit and ambush was perceived. Perhaps it was nothing, just a sense of precaution due a city of solid stone that had become one of forests, vines, and leafy banners where fae and whatever human left, resided together. "What is there to know about me, my dear?" He simply asked, his hand raising to caress neck and lower jaw. "I am but a simple man trying to make my way in the world." Sorel granted her a smile before suddenly rolling over her. |
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