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For several years his band assuming he was a pure buck. After all he was hairy like one, smelled like one and fought like one, but despite what he seemed to be at first glance he was different. Mainly he was one of the males that was a birthgiver. And he was due. \n\nThe human milita outside of a small port town on Keos, a small island with just farmers and fishers mostly Minoans, and the satyrs that lived there. For the most part Argyros's life was simple. Hunting, fishing and living among the humans that saw him and his band as a common occurrence. But then they came. First he saw the small ships on the horizon, then they came to port, war-like Athenians slaughter men, woman and children. The satyrs fled and hid in the wild hills and groves. \n\nBut not Argyros, name meaning 'Silver' his eyes burn like moon over the Aegean, he grabbed the first xiphlos he found and stabbed a pirate who was taking away a woman to be used for his pleasure for slavery. He lopped off the head of another. While satyrs are often saw as lusty cowards, a few took up spears and shields and blades and they with the courage of others fought against the Athenian slavers. \n\nPeace and war wane like the sun, and so did the various cycles of satyrs that lived among the human farmers. Protecting their sheep and goats. Their panic scaring off many predators and theives. They found comfort living among men who would share bread, and milk in offering. If they are lucky they might see a shrine of Pan in one of their groves, phallus long and upright. Agryos saw the women often at home with their kidlings, and the men at war. He could understand the reasoning but he himself chose the act of war despite what some folks might suggest based on what Pan has gave him at birth. \n\nHis twin brother died, his mother grew weak from their birth and so too left the mortal place to dwell in the Underworld. He was the only one that lived, and was nameless for three full moons. It was then his clan decided that he would be a male of the clan and be raised a buck, if he chose doehood at time of his first blood-cycle than he will be known as a doe to the clan. But the silver-eyed kidling remained as a buck and while he did not have the massive phallus of others he could spar with his horns and drink with the best of them. Until end of a blood-cycle when another asked for sex. Satyrs fucked as a social norm. To establish bonds to end arguments and to breed. This one scented him, and asked during a full moon revel. But Argyros was unsure. He had seen them in the woods. Often named a buck to the clan, they prefer no gender at all. Mene is what they called themselves and so is what Argyros called them. \n\n“Chose me to dance? Hah, I am the wrong one my friend. Pick uh Linos he is a tall buck, blonde hair and eyes like springtime. He would be a fine choice to revel with. Or if a buck is not your liking today, a doe named Myrrine she is fair and rounded. Will bear you many a kidling for the clan.” \n\n“Why not yourself aren't you the kind to bear kidlings?” \n“It's true yes my friend. But I am a band warrior. I must keep myself free of child until war is over.” He argued to Mene, their smile faltered. But brighten, they leaned over watching his eyes asking for permission to kiss. His lips met theirs heady and warm their kisses were he parted cupping their soft face. \n“I ask, why did you chose me?”\n“Because you are a warrior, because you are not afraid of man or blade and you will die to protect not your family but all clans and families that is why Argyros of the Xiphos. You are friend to Hermes you will follow him to the homes of ones that need you and to death.” \nTheir words made him smile, and in the light of Selene and the sound of pipes and music and madness he sat in their lap. Filled up, their breath on his neck as he road them. Kissing Mene deeply whispering to them how he was flattered and accepted their offer. \n“Kidlings then with hear to weather all things.” laughter in his voice when said that. Mene positioned him so they could rut Argyros from behind, pulling on his tail, burying himself deep. Feeling his heart beat quicken at each thrust calling out any god that would hear them. Mene came without such ado, and so they mated with Argyros seven time in two nights. Mene stood beside him even as he left with his blade and crude leather armor. \n\nFor at least five moons, Argyros hid his growing belly. He knew that the seed was planted and Hera hand was on him. Growling out he looked for the fennel to abort the unborn, he found none and he question whether to abort the fetus or not. The gods gave him no answer and neither did his ancestors. Prayers did nothing and if Hera touched him and made his belly grow then he must take what the gods have given him. \n\nXiphlos in hand he spent several more months roaming with his bands, some learned the art of the bow, others used slings and boulders to ward of slavers that came to Keos. The humans offered him food and drink and the band that was with him gave him food for his clan to take him. He accepted their offerings, and return kept his patrols. But even the humans he was with noticed the belly growing. Luckily, he was fortunate to be given a singlet. A rare occurrence for a satyr to have one, but its twin must have been dead or absorbed for he only felt one pair of kicks. Still Argyros kept his duty to serve and Mene made sure his belly was filled with food for him and their child. He promised Mene that he will kept to patrols and watching than the heavier combat. For the time he was full term that was all he can do. Sleeping and eating and keeping the weight off his hooves was the primary deal.\n\nThat was before the raid struck him. He was called from camp by a human warrior, he said that the slavers reached the shores and were striking fast. It was dark but a full moon. The slavers charged in started setting the village on fire. Women screamed, children cried out and men fought but heavy with kidling, Argyros could only defend, shooting his bow and making sure they don't advance. When he felt the pressure. His child had an enough of the warm wet darkness of his womb. Maybe they could feel the righeous anger of their parent? Maybe the moon itself, caller of tides had beckonded them. Either way. Argyros howled out as his belly moved. \n\n“No, no, it's not time. Its war, dying everywhere. Child be still. You will be born in fields of green not of blood red!?” But his belly did not quiet. Feeling it quiver, he grabbed his xiphlos and dropped his bow. He called to his band to cover him as he retreated to bear his child. Only one human knew of his friend's secret and announced that he will take on his strength as the satyr fought for several hours in the dark. The men filled in and kept the ruffians at bay. Protecting the women and children from harm. Some women took up bows and set fire to the ships taking on Argyros courage. \n\nMeanwhile under the eye of Selene he labored. On all fours or squatting, he could feel the bag of waters break and pour. His birth scent will attract wolves and lions, but he was ready for any predator. This was just the wrong time but he was not going to cow and hide. He whispered to his belly. \n“Child, so you call out to meet your father who will bear you. I will answer your call. Precious child may the name of the Dark be with you when you come.” He howled out again feeling his back break and nethers bulge he called out in tears. \n\n“Mene, my moon, please be here. You made me this, and this is what you will wit-” He stopped when he heard the sound of sandalds and the smell of human musk. \n\nSlavers. \n\n“Ay I thought I heard a sheep bleating.” \n“A shepard? Where is he?” said they pair. \nTaking his xiphlos, the sword in his hand. Argyros stood up behind them. Humans could not see at all in the dark, but his kin could. Grinning despite laboring and feeling his child descend into the world of flesh, the raised he blade high. He fear not. The wild was with him. The slaver didn't even had time to blink when the sick sound of the blade bit into the flesh of them both. One head rolled the other fell with the stab to the chest. He gasped blood shooting from his chest. His head his friend to his side. He shuttered and died. Argyros moaned when his child pushed through. \n\n“Is that what you want little one? One more thief dead? AH! Oh gods, you hurt.” He felt back into the fields and pressed down. With each throb he bore down. His hands at his fat and sore lips. Massive clit throbbing at each push. \n\n“Come, come on. Be with me now.” He panted squatting sword at his chest as he pushed again. Feeling the head come through. “COME!” He barked before pushing the head and floppy ears. He took his clean hand cradled the head pushing the rest out with the splash of blood and water. Fat and crying out, a doeling. \nDark as night and warm to the touch she laid on the warm chest of her father. The afterbirth came shortly as he staggered up tired. The ships were leaving. Good. He looked down at his black hair and wool daughter.\n\n“Name of the Dark, Nyx. Nyx then because the night becomes you my child and you will revel in the night.” \n", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Or Born on a Battlefield

It was just the wrong time and the wrong place.

Argyros had to admit his timing was pretty bad. For several years his band assuming he was a pure buck. After all he was hairy like one, smelled like one and fought like one, but despite what he seemed to be at first glance he was different. Mainly he was one of the males that was a birthgiver. And he was due.

The human milita outside of a small port town on Keos, a small island with just farmers and fishers mostly Minoans, and the satyrs that lived there. For the most part Argyros's life was simple. Hunting, fishing and living among the humans that saw him and his band as a common occurrence. But then they came. First he saw the small ships on the horizon, then they came to port, war-like Athenians slaughter men, woman and children. The satyrs fled and hid in the wild hills and groves.

But not Argyros, name meaning 'Silver' his eyes burn like moon over the Aegean, he grabbed the first xiphlos he found and stabbed a pirate who was taking away a woman to be used for his pleasure for slavery. He lopped off the head of another. While satyrs are often saw as lusty cowards, a few took up spears and shields and blades and they with the courage of others fought against the Athenian slavers.

Peace and war wane like the sun, and so did the various cycles of satyrs that lived among the human farmers. Protecting their sheep and goats. Their panic scaring off many predators and theives. They found comfort living among men who would share bread, and milk in offering. If they are lucky they might see a shrine of Pan in one of their groves, phallus long and upright. Agryos saw the women often at home with their kidlings, and the men at war. He could understand the reasoning but he himself chose the act of war despite what some folks might suggest based on what Pan has gave him at birth.

His twin brother died, his mother grew weak from their birth and so too left the mortal place to dwell in the Underworld. He was the only one that lived, and was nameless for three full moons. It was then his clan decided that he would be a male of the clan and be raised a buck, if he chose doehood at time of his first blood-cycle than he will be known as a doe to the clan. But the silver-eyed kidling remained as a buck and while he did not have the massive phallus of others he could spar with his horns and drink with the best of them. Until end of a blood-cycle when another asked for sex. Satyrs fucked as a social norm. To establish bonds to end arguments and to breed. This one scented him, and asked during a full moon revel. But Argyros was unsure. He had seen them in the woods. Often named a buck to the clan, they prefer no gender at all. Mene is what they called themselves and so is what Argyros called them.

“Chose me to dance? Hah, I am the wrong one my friend. Pick uh Linos he is a tall buck, blonde hair and eyes like springtime. He would be a fine choice to revel with. Or if a buck is not your liking today, a doe named Myrrine she is fair and rounded. Will bear you many a kidling for the clan.”

“Why not yourself aren't you the kind to bear kidlings?”
“It's true yes my friend. But I am a band warrior. I must keep myself free of child until war is over.” He argued to Mene, their smile faltered. But brighten, they leaned over watching his eyes asking for permission to kiss. His lips met theirs heady and warm their kisses were he parted cupping their soft face.
“I ask, why did you chose me?”
“Because you are a warrior, because you are not afraid of man or blade and you will die to protect not your family but all clans and families that is why Argyros of the Xiphos. You are friend to Hermes you will follow him to the homes of ones that need you and to death.”
Their words made him smile, and in the light of Selene and the sound of pipes and music and madness he sat in their lap. Filled up, their breath on his neck as he road them. Kissing Mene deeply whispering to them how he was flattered and accepted their offer.
“Kidlings then with hear to weather all things.” laughter in his voice when said that. Mene positioned him so they could rut Argyros from behind, pulling on his tail, burying himself deep. Feeling his heart beat quicken at each thrust calling out any god that would hear them. Mene came without such ado, and so they mated with Argyros seven time in two nights. Mene stood beside him even as he left with his blade and crude leather armor.

For at least five moons, Argyros hid his growing belly. He knew that the seed was planted and Hera hand was on him. Growling out he looked for the fennel to abort the unborn, he found none and he question whether to abort the fetus or not. The gods gave him no answer and neither did his ancestors. Prayers did nothing and if Hera touched him and made his belly grow then he must take what the gods have given him.

Xiphlos in hand he spent several more months roaming with his bands, some learned the art of the bow, others used slings and boulders to ward of slavers that came to Keos. The humans offered him food and drink and the band that was with him gave him food for his clan to take him. He accepted their offerings, and return kept his patrols. But even the humans he was with noticed the belly growing. Luckily, he was fortunate to be given a singlet. A rare occurrence for a satyr to have one, but its twin must have been dead or absorbed for he only felt one pair of kicks. Still Argyros kept his duty to serve and Mene made sure his belly was filled with food for him and their child. He promised Mene that he will kept to patrols and watching than the heavier combat. For the time he was full term that was all he can do. Sleeping and eating and keeping the weight off his hooves was the primary deal.

That was before the raid struck him. He was called from camp by a human warrior, he said that the slavers reached the shores and were striking fast. It was dark but a full moon. The slavers charged in started setting the village on fire. Women screamed, children cried out and men fought but heavy with kidling, Argyros could only defend, shooting his bow and making sure they don't advance. When he felt the pressure. His child had an enough of the warm wet darkness of his womb. Maybe they could feel the righeous anger of their parent? Maybe the moon itself, caller of tides had beckonded them. Either way. Argyros howled out as his belly moved.

“No, no, it's not time. Its war, dying everywhere. Child be still. You will be born in fields of green not of blood red!?” But his belly did not quiet.  Feeling it quiver, he grabbed his xiphlos and dropped his bow. He called to his band to cover him as he retreated to bear his child. Only one human knew of his friend's secret and announced that he will take on his strength as the satyr fought for several hours in the dark. The men filled in and kept the ruffians at bay. Protecting the women and children from harm. Some women took up bows and set fire to the ships taking on Argyros courage.

Meanwhile under the eye of Selene he labored. On all fours or squatting, he could feel the bag of waters break and pour. His birth scent will attract wolves and lions, but he was ready for any predator. This was just the wrong time but he was not going to cow and hide. He whispered to his belly.
“Child, so you call out to meet your father who will bear you. I will answer your call. Precious child may the name of the Dark be with you when you come.” He howled out again feeling his back break and nethers bulge he called out in tears.

“Mene, my moon, please be here. You made me this, and this is what you will wit-” He stopped when he heard the sound of sandalds and the smell of human musk.

Slavers.

“Ay I thought I heard a sheep bleating.”
“A shepard? Where is he?” said they pair.
Taking his xiphlos, the sword in his hand. Argyros stood up behind them. Humans could not see at all in the dark, but his kin could. Grinning despite laboring and feeling his child descend into the world of flesh, the raised he blade high. He fear not. The wild was with him. The slaver didn't even had time to blink when the sick sound of the blade bit into the flesh of them both. One head rolled the other fell with the stab to the chest. He gasped blood shooting from his chest. His head his friend to his side. He shuttered and died. Argyros moaned when his child pushed through.

“Is that what you want little one? One more thief dead? AH! Oh gods, you hurt.” He felt back into the fields and pressed down. With each throb he bore down. His hands at his fat and sore lips. Massive clit throbbing at each push.

“Come, come on. Be with me now.” He panted squatting sword at his chest as he pushed again. Feeling the head come through. “COME!” He barked before pushing the head and floppy ears. He took his clean hand cradled the head pushing the rest out with the splash of blood and water. Fat and crying out, a doeling.
Dark as night and warm to the touch she laid on the warm chest of her father. The afterbirth came shortly as he staggered up tired. The ships were leaving.  Good. He looked down at his black hair and wool daughter.

“Name of the Dark, Nyx. Nyx then because the night becomes you my child and you will revel in the night.”
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