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He'd been told by his father, his mother, his sisters, cousines, auts, nephews, and even the notoriously 'nurturing' clergy. The only ones who looked up to him where is brothers, all two of them, and commoners. His father was in the same boat, administrator in charge of dungeon scouting and harvesting, put there as his first born became the head lancer in charge of assaulting and taming said pits.\n There had been no 'new' dungeons in about three centuries, not after Diamita's convergence. That still left the ones that got frustrated and collapsed their entrences just to shimmy around for a few miles. While it caused some turmoil for buildcrafters and beancounters not even the cities these things were built on were all that concerned. \n Nathaniel had gone to meet a few of them, no so much concor than check up on and touch bases with and they all seemed a lil huffy and just wanted more food or some new toys. In most cases this meant the old or out of fabor would be sent in with equipment they knew and the dungeon would take it easy on them for awhile, or they'd get regular visits from propper royal knites.\n Nathaniel was always the messanger, so when one day he escaped a particularly irritating argument between a clockmaker and a jester he found it strange that the local hive mind representitive told him he was wanted at the church. Of the major powers there are the gods with their patchwork of territory, the king and his lords, the guilds, hive and churches, all existing in a constant state of about to stab eachother, so he, a prince, basterd line as he was, being called to the church, by a hive rep, was odd. Usually the weirdo would stand in an intersection between pubs and housing blocks and espouse the benefits of the hive, most of which being free crap in exchainge for loosing all individuality. He did not come to the castle, or the church except to point Sir Nate to the church this day.\n Relieved and willing to accept any excuse to get away from being the rhetorical punching bag, Nate made off with a skip in his step. No prince no matter how low is someone you get in the way of, especially when they are in a good mood.\n Waiting for him at the church was a strange conflagration of teeth rapidly conuming a stunned congrigation. The swirling tenticles of tar black with ivory teeth of every make and purpose mismatched along the knotted mass would have given any commoner 3 d 20 psychological damage.\n It amused him, a thrust of hellfire enfused lance and the thing came to its senses and shifted back into a priest, drenched in blood and tangled up in the vicera of his God's work. He couldn't hold back a laugh as the priest cried out, like he didn't know that's what his gods were like. \n More likely he ate the quire, Nathan thought as he left. But something touched him, a carefull wirey limb of something whose form mattered little to its existence. He was shown a place up on the morthetn mountain range and left with two words.\n \"New dungeon\"\n\n---\n\n Liz was enjoying a ride on one of her favorite slaves, a family pariah in many ways. She was fine being married into the royal family under her mother and fine with being set up with the man who all the baggage fell on, but on these long trips she needed someone to destress into. Pinning the cobold down and ramming his sexy slit as he violently shit himself was abput the most relaxing thing for her.\n The act was messy, and loud, and took place in the stables, but she had a whole warband of kobolds and calculators to lead and at least half of them hitting on her. One hemipenised boy toy getting his cockslit packed so tight all the further his cocks get is peaking out from it is a neglegable cost for her composure.\n Everyone said she was a curse and perhapse they were right, all the labito of a vineyard male and all the bad habbits of a pent up schoolgirl. She was the complete package, all the insecurities and violent responses, but she had all the bonus stats from it.\n Unlike everyone else she was born with a perk. Most had to grow and act to find one for them or inherit it, she was bestowed it. It came with a note and the understanding to comprehend it, \"sorry for the rough go around last time, I wanted a better start this time but this is the only available spot, so here's something to help you.\"\n Boy did it help, everyone knows they have stats, the big three are health stamina and mana, but each of those are based on three which then are habe other stats behind them deciding what the surface values are.\n The obvious ones are strength, constitution, dexterity, luck, charisma, wisdom and intelligence. Each of those boil dpwn into their own intertwined web of values derived from taits and scores that then percolate up threw the relationships for each of the stats to get to the big three.\n Several people had epiphanies when she told them back in preschool even though most of the system had been deciphered. She had chose to maximize everything, and by the age of five she had the regen, strength stamina and mana of a berserker mage, the health of a normal wizard though. And that's when her problens started, not that she really cared, someone bullied her she could punch them over a fence, but they rarely did. Her issues were more aggravating, classroom bullshit.\n The very thought made her plunder the kobold's slit extra hard as he seemed to get off on his testicles getting smashed by her fat cock. She loved the face he made, the way he clutched his tail, how his eyes just could not focus as so many things were stimulated at once. Then she squeaked and jolted, ramming extra deep as her own excessive sensitivity caught up with her and everything sprayed.\n Her school days consisted of ideots getting in the way of actually learning untill she found friends, the only viable way of applying additive modifiers to luck contributing traits. Then education was a joke as she ran a mafia for whatever random shit the school did and did not have banned. It was glorious having the toubled kids and the smart ones cooperating to deal goods threw the propper dealers without teachers getting mad, then she found out the dean had a thing for getting chewed out and she became a dominatrix at seven.\n Her cock seemed to stay at about the same proportion to her body the whole while, most of the other kids ot grew a fair bit but she may have maxed it out fairly early on.\n The kobold was panting and quivering all over, the goo he'd ejected against her belly about as appetizing as what theyd both worked to launch into the wall behind them. She took some in her hand and wiped it on his tongue, prompting hom to suckle and slurp as she softened up slowly. \n The loving little scail boy, she pressed her hand back to his throat and he made more squirts on her belly as she stroked and spread her fingers around.\n A knock at the stable door informed her one of the observers would like a word, she looked and it was the messenger, bearing parchment with a royal seal. She preferred the shifting glass slabs of the Karaki folk but tradition had not proven them secret enough yet, even though she could pick open the missives at twelve.\n She angled her hips and stood up, maximizing the moral boost from the display of her 9 inch half hard mast sliding out of the soldier's well used slit, the gasps around the messenger showed just how awed the crowd was. All that ramming and the boy had spilled no blood in any of it. Probably due to this being the best possible way to grind toughness and stamina at the same time.\n With a small entourage of cats emerging for cleaning duity she took the scroll and discarded the seal without any of the mandated pomp, letting it melt and fizzle at its defusal and pulling the thing open with no reguard for secrecy she let her nose twitch.\n The rasping tongues dragging on her pouch and skin were enough to keep her from showing much at the news. A new god, movement on the border, stock fucking aroind with the damn smugglers, we need you for your usefulness not your loyalty, blah blah, rats are gone.\n She'd be crushing giant roaches by the end of the week. She lifted a leg and set her foot on the wall so her cleaners could get into all the crevices of her cunt. As mush as she loved hetting down and dirty, bugs were not her thing, no matter how big or small. The best thing that wedding did was give her a mpre appropriate fire to kill them with, and that thought had her hard again and the scout scoffing as a myriad of colorful bodies all jumed to be the ones to quench her this time.\n She grinned and ran her fingers over her belly, almost frowning at the lack of spooge to write with, she'd have to fix that.\n\n---\n\n The king was nervous, his grandaughter in law was an impressive fighter, is she'd met her match in the southeastern shores hed have a hard time garrisoning a security force in her absence. All the other scrools had come back with affirmitive responces, shuffling positions to the point they were all waiting on her. They had determined she would be to take up the north, near the mountains. Her soldiers would like it and the support colum could pass time mining, it sounded great, everyone sighned the approval with their finest perfumed ink or dyed spirits.\n All but one, one which to its credit did not combust upon opening, even though it really wanted to. One which shifted in outrage and something more primal. Was it scared?\n Liz had a way of pushing the bar like that. Making inatimate things afrade or disgusted. As though barns were the only things too tired to give a crap.\n Then one drop, a splotch really, then the eloquent writing of her fingers with something gooy.\n \"Just dont recall me for bug duty when the fuckers start bothering the allypanthers.\n -Elizabeth\"\n The paint was so pungent in smell, something earthy and inviting while still being musty and sweet, James decreed that the messenger beqr full testimony to what he witnessed upon delivering the royal missive. King James would regret that like only liz could make him.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "    Nathaniel White was by no meams a great man, nome at all. He'd been told by his father, his mother, his sisters, cousines, auts, nephews, and even the notoriously 'nurturing' clergy. The only ones who looked up to him where is brothers, all two of them, and commoners. His father was in the same boat, administrator in charge of dungeon scouting and harvesting, put there as his first born became the head lancer in charge of assaulting and taming said pits.
    There had been no 'new' dungeons in about three centuries, not after Diamita's convergence. That still left the ones that got frustrated and collapsed their entrences just to shimmy around for a few miles. While it caused some turmoil for buildcrafters and beancounters not even the cities these things were built on were all that concerned.
    Nathaniel had gone to meet a few of them, no so much concor than check up on and touch bases with and they all seemed a lil huffy and just wanted more food or some new toys. In most cases this meant the old or out of fabor would be sent in with equipment they knew and the dungeon would take it easy on them for awhile, or they'd get regular visits from propper royal knites.
    Nathaniel was always the messanger, so when one day he escaped a particularly irritating argument between a clockmaker and a jester he found it strange that the local hive mind representitive told him he was wanted at the church. Of the major powers there are the gods with their patchwork of territory, the king and his lords, the guilds, hive and churches, all existing in a constant state of about to stab eachother, so he, a prince, basterd line as he was, being called to the church, by a hive rep, was odd. Usually the weirdo would stand in an intersection between pubs and housing blocks and espouse the benefits of the hive, most of which being free crap in exchainge for loosing all individuality. He did not come to the castle, or the church except to point Sir Nate to the church this day.
    Relieved and willing to accept any excuse to get away from being the rhetorical punching bag, Nate made off with a skip in his step. No prince no matter how low is someone you get in the way of, especially when they are in a good mood.
    Waiting for him at the church was a strange conflagration of teeth rapidly conuming a stunned congrigation. The swirling tenticles of tar black with ivory teeth of every make and purpose mismatched along the knotted mass would have given any commoner 3 d 20 psychological damage.
    It amused him, a thrust of hellfire enfused lance and the thing came to its senses and shifted back into a priest, drenched in blood and tangled up in the vicera of his God's work. He couldn't hold back a laugh as the priest cried out, like he didn't know that's what his gods were like.
    More likely he ate the quire, Nathan thought as he left. But something touched him, a carefull wirey limb of something whose form mattered little to its existence. He was shown a place up on the morthetn mountain range and left with two words.
    "New dungeon"

---

    Liz was enjoying a ride on one of her favorite slaves, a family pariah in many ways. She was fine being married into the royal family under her mother and fine with being set up with the man who all the baggage fell on, but on these long trips she needed someone to destress into. Pinning the cobold down and ramming his sexy slit as he violently shit himself was abput the most relaxing thing for her.
    The act was messy, and loud, and took place in the stables, but she had a whole warband of kobolds and calculators to lead and at least half of them hitting on her. One hemipenised boy toy getting his cockslit packed so tight all the further his cocks get is peaking out from it is a neglegable cost for her composure.
    Everyone said she was a curse and perhapse they were right, all the labito of a vineyard male and all the bad habbits of a pent up schoolgirl. She was the complete package, all the insecurities and violent responses, but she had all the bonus stats from it.
    Unlike everyone else she was born with a perk. Most had to grow and act to find one for them or inherit it, she was bestowed it. It came with a note and the understanding to comprehend it, "sorry for the rough go around last time, I wanted a better start this time but this is the only available spot, so here's something to help you."
    Boy did it help, everyone knows they have stats, the big three are health stamina and mana, but each of those are based on three which then are habe other stats behind them deciding what the surface values are.
    The obvious ones are strength, constitution, dexterity, luck, charisma, wisdom and intelligence. Each of those boil dpwn into their own intertwined web of values derived from taits and scores that then percolate up threw the relationships for each of the stats to get to the big three.
    Several people had epiphanies when she told them back in preschool even though most of the system had been deciphered. She had chose to maximize everything, and by the age of five she had the regen, strength stamina and mana of a berserker mage, the health of a normal wizard though. And that's when her problens started, not that she really cared, someone bullied her she could punch them over a fence, but they rarely did. Her issues were more aggravating, classroom bullshit.
    The very thought made her plunder the kobold's slit extra hard as he seemed to get off on his testicles getting smashed by her fat cock. She loved the face he made, the way he clutched his tail, how his eyes just could not focus as so many things were stimulated at once. Then she squeaked and jolted, ramming extra deep as her own excessive sensitivity caught up with her and everything sprayed.
    Her school days consisted of ideots getting in the way of actually learning untill she found friends, the only viable way of applying additive modifiers to luck contributing traits. Then education was a joke as she ran a mafia for whatever random shit the school did and did not have banned. It was glorious having the toubled kids and the smart ones cooperating to deal goods threw the propper dealers without teachers getting mad, then she found out the dean had a thing for getting chewed out and she became a dominatrix at seven.
    Her cock seemed to stay at about the same proportion to her body the whole while, most of the other kids ot grew a fair bit but she may have maxed it out fairly early on.
    The kobold was panting and quivering all over, the goo he'd ejected against her belly about as appetizing as what theyd both worked to launch into the wall behind them. She took some in her hand and wiped it on his tongue, prompting hom to suckle and slurp as she softened up slowly.
    The loving little scail boy, she pressed her hand back to his throat and he made more squirts on her belly as she stroked and spread her fingers around.
    A knock at the stable door informed her one of the observers would like a word, she looked and it was the messenger, bearing parchment with a royal seal. She preferred the shifting glass slabs of the Karaki folk but tradition had not proven them secret enough yet, even though she could pick open the missives at twelve.
    She angled her hips and stood up, maximizing the moral boost from the display of her 9 inch half hard mast sliding out of the soldier's well used slit, the gasps around the messenger showed just how awed the crowd was. All that ramming and the boy had spilled no blood in any of it. Probably due to this being the best possible way to grind toughness and stamina at the same time.
    With a small entourage of cats emerging for cleaning duity she took the scroll and discarded the seal without any of the mandated pomp, letting it melt and fizzle at its defusal and pulling the thing open with no reguard for secrecy she let her nose twitch.
    The rasping tongues dragging on her pouch and skin were enough to keep her from showing much at the news. A new god, movement on the border, stock fucking aroind with the damn smugglers, we need you for your usefulness not your loyalty, blah blah, rats are gone.
    She'd be crushing giant roaches by the end of the week. She lifted a leg and set her foot on the wall so her cleaners could get into all the crevices of her cunt. As mush as she loved hetting down and dirty, bugs were not her thing, no matter how big or small. The best thing that wedding did was give her a mpre appropriate fire to kill them with, and that thought had her hard again and the scout scoffing as a myriad of colorful bodies all jumed to be the ones to quench her this time.
    She grinned and ran her fingers over her belly, almost frowning at the lack of spooge to write with, she'd have to fix that.

---

    The king was nervous, his grandaughter in law was an impressive fighter, is she'd met her match in the southeastern shores hed have a hard time garrisoning a security force in her absence. All the other scrools had come back with affirmitive responces, shuffling positions to the point they were all waiting on her. They had determined she would be to take up the north, near the mountains. Her soldiers would like it and the support colum could pass time mining, it sounded great, everyone sighned the approval with their finest perfumed ink or dyed spirits.
    All but one, one which to its credit did not combust upon opening, even though it really wanted to. One which shifted in outrage and something more primal. Was it scared?
    Liz had a way of pushing the bar like that. Making inatimate things afrade or disgusted. As though barns were the only things too tired to give a crap.
   Then one drop, a splotch really, then the eloquent writing of her fingers with something gooy.
    "Just dont recall me for bug duty when the fuckers start bothering the allypanthers.
    -Elizabeth"
    The paint was so pungent in smell, something earthy and inviting while still being musty and sweet, James decreed that the messenger beqr full testimony to what he witnessed upon delivering the royal missive. King James would regret that like only liz could make him.", "pools_count": 2, "title": "Cerial reincarnator ch 4?", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/jpeg", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "48" }