“We should set off at once!” Kaylin insisted, turning on her heel and proceeding to march in the general direction Lex had suggested they travel to reach Leeria.
Though his step was light, Stentis quickly found that that which had served him so well on streets of cobbles or hard-packed earth made little difference in the spongey marshland terrain. No matter how sparsely he set his feet, the soft soles of his boots would quickly sink into the noxious soil. This annoyed him greatly.
Like a feral cat, an alluringly beautiful woman, dressed in tight-fitting leather armor, trimmed in green, a woodland cloak draped about her shoulders, crept through the underbrush of the sparse forestlands. Though youthful to all appearances, her olive skin unblemished and long, brown locks untouched by even a single grey or white strand, the curving point of her long ears and depths of her chestnut eyes bespoke an age far elder than her visage suggested. Beyond this, her light, measured steps and comfort with which she handled the deftly crafted longbow in her elegant hands, suggested a veritable lifetime of perfected craft. As it currently stood, said perfected craft was focused entirely on a young buck standing at the center of a small clearing littered with wildflowers before her.
With the wind rushing in his ears and the smell of the swamplands below him strong in his nostrils, Stentis, Enforcer of the Mentrethis Thieves Guild, slowly made his descent, the massive raven he rode guiding itself towards the bleak landscape below.
Within dusty depths she stirs, grinding stonework long interred
“No,” was his immediate thought. “Not only am I to break my oath of chastity, but with my own sister?!”
Just as the full darkness of nightfall enclosed around them, Lystra and Belt made the gates of the Flaming Fist Fort. Despite seeing no sign of continued pursuit for the majority of their flight, they had not slowed their mounts, fearful that their foe may have some unseen trick up their sleeve.
Dusk was falling swiftly when a lone rider wound their way down a twisting backwoods road towards a long, squat Inn with worn log walls and a thatched roof. A low palisade surrounded the structure, the gate of which was open and welcoming, as was the small trail of smoke rising from the building’s chimney. A faded sign at the palisade’s gate identified the place as the Weeping Willow Inn, aptly named as the namesake trees lined the roadside leading to its entrance, as well as about the palisade’s exterior. The soft gurgling of a nearby brook, as well as the multitude of chirping insects, lent the locale a sleepy facade and was a pleasing image to the weary traveller.
Leeria awoke the following morning just before the dawn, still groggy from sleep, as well as the amount of alcohol she had imbibed the night prior. She lay for a time amidst the hay, curled in on herself as she had but her woodland cloak covering her nakedness, the medallion of her guild clutched in her hand.
“I did, can’t say I’ve ever seen someone give a Fey Dragon a blowjob before, not that I’m judging by any means.”