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Terrible Company Ch. 01

By: AwkwardMD



The sun dominated above. Even the shadows wilted under the oppression of the day star as it reached it's zenith over the fields surrounding Aedor. The cool breeze, coming down from the mountains to the north, brought small relief from the stifling heat. The worst of the long summer months were behind, but that was no balm for the adventurer. She grimaced, brushing sweat from her brow as she looked out upon the parched grasslands. 

The road was empty for now, but that was how she liked it. Too many people had failed her over the years, leaving her jaded and trust in short supply. No, the Orc was a loner, through and through. 

Maybe this road would be the one she'd been searching for. Maybe, at the end of this stretch of dirt where the grass refused to grow, at the end of another long, tiring walk, she would find the answers she sought. Maybe they were even the answers she needed. 

Small for an Orc at a mere six foot five, she was nevertheless a vision of muscle and beauty. Her arms were as thick as braided dock rope. Her legs, even thicker, like rounded slabs. She had a hard look about her underneath her shaggy black hair. Scars adorned her toned body like badges of honor. She had the look of a woman who'd seen the very face of hell, only to claw her way back. 

"Stop describing me." 

"She said, to no one in particular." 

"You're being very over-dramatic," Val said 

"It breaks the fourth wall if you address me directly," the Narrator whined. 

"There is no fourth wall," she growled, sweeping her arms out. "There's no walls at all! We're on a dirt road between two open fields." 

"It's a metaphorical wall," he said, rolling his eyes. 

"I told you I'm not paying you for this." 

The white-haired man smiled as he bowed. "My good woman, to have the chance to follow you and bear witness to your exploits is all I ask." 

"Wasn't planning on having any exploits," she said, her features hardening. 

"Adventures then?" he asked hopefully. "Perhaps a grand quest or two?" 

"None of them either," Val grunted. 

"Surely a woman of your stature and bearing invites a... a... a host! Yes! A veritable host of downtrodden in need of the skills you so clearly possess!" 

"I tell them the same thing I told you," she said, shrugging. "No." Val came to a stop and rounded on the man. "What exactly do you get out of this again?" 

"I believe this is the future of entertainment. Cutting-edge storytelling and performance art. Part Minstrel, part Bard-" 

"Nope," Val interrupted, shaking her head. "Stopping you right there. No Bards. Fucking hate Bards." 

The Narrator gasped. "You wound me, Madam!" he cried. 

"Not yet I haven't." The old man swallowed hard as Val loomed over him. "You take one more step after me down this road, and I'll break your nose. I ever see you again, I'll break your leg. Clear?" 

"Crystal," he swallowed, weakly. 

Val glared at him a moment longer before turning back down the road. The old man had been a minor annoyance at best, and she mentally flogged herself for letting him get to her so easily. Her frustration had other sources. She looked back over her shoulders; the road behind her was empty. "Like braided rope, huh?" she mumbled to herself, twisting her bared arms and nodding thoughtfully. "I can see how that might work for some people." 

*** 

"Three more," Val said. "They were pretty bare leads, and I didn't expect anything from them." The breeze was barely noticeable at the ground level, but it set the treetops swaying. "I'm not sure if that makes it self-fulfilling or not, but I did find someone thought they might have seen the-" 

Val's attention sharpened at the sound of a twig snapping ahead of her. Despite the obvious wear on the path she hadn't seen anyone for hours; not since she scared off the old man earlier. 

The sound had been distant. Outwardly, Val continued as she had before; a comfortable pace that wouldn't break any records. Nearly a full minute passed before the offending twigbreaker came into view over a little hill ahead of her. The wiry young man seemed nearly as surprised to encounter anyone, but the similarity in their reactions ended there. As they neared each other, the young man became increasingly nervous, going so far as to step off the path and into the low brush to put distance between them. His hand hovered over the handle of the dagger on his hip as they passed each other. Val sighed to herself as she continued on down the road. 

*** 

Val rounded the bend warily, smelling the thick smoke before she saw the camp fire. A human, judging by the size, crouched by the flames, their face lost in the flickering shadows of a heavy hood. Val let her hand drift to the hilt of her blade, forcing a warm smile. 

"Evening," Val called, waving. The hooded figure looked up and froze. The light dancing off their eyes was the only visible feature within the shadow. Val had wanted to wait for some sign of approval before approaching, but the figure just watched her impassively. "I hadn't seen any good spots in the last couple hours to stop for the night, and I doubt I'll find one as good as this for a couple more." 

The woman stood, revealing a lithe, feminine shape, and she pulled back her cowl. Short, spiky blond hair surrounded a narrow face, and the set of her eyebrows gave her a look of unamused surprise. "I didn't prepare for two," the woman said, as Val got closer, "but you're welcome to stay." It took Val a moment to see that the other woman had been talking about food, and she shook her head. 

"I've got my own." Val tapped the small pack on the side of her hip as she unshouldered her pack. "You headed to Aedor?" The blonde narrowed her eyes as she squatted down in front of her pot. "Reason I ask is because I didn't see any fresh tracks heading my way." 

"No," the woman said cautiously. "I'm headed to Jonehn, but I'm coming up from the south. That is the road to Jonehn, right?" 

Val nodded knowingly. "Most maps make it look like that's an easy shortcut." 

"Short nothing," the woman scowled, her lips twisting. "I think I've spent two more days taking this 'direct route' than I would have going all the way around the Southmarsh." 

"I'm Val," she offered. 

"Katsa," the woman replied, nodding slightly. 

Val nodded again, and pulled a piece of jerked venison from her hip pack. They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. The constant tinkling of the stream nearby competed with the small fire and the bubbling stew, and Val tried to remember if she'd ever met a Human who'd been so casual on the first encounter. Katsa wore black fingerless gloves with blue trimming that extended to the elbow, and Val took note of the symbols embroidered along it's length. "So what's waiting for you in Jonehn?" she asked. 

Again, Katsa regarded her with a wary expression. "I was hired to do a job." 

Val waited for a moment to see if the blonde would offer more, but she did not. "I expect that I'm the first person you've seen in a week, course you took getting through the mountains." Katsa nodded slowly in response. "Well, I won't be the only one you see tonight. Passed a young man a few hours ago who's circling around with his buddies to rob us, maybe kill us, aaaand almost certainly rape us." 

"How... how could you know that?" 

"I've seen a few things," Val confessed. "He was young, but he'd seen combat. Knew how to step through brush without lookin' at his feet, but his hands was shakin' so bad at being a few feet from an Orc that he'd have done more damage to himself if it came to drawing. One was a conscious cover, and the other was not. " 

"And that means he wants to rape us?" 

"Likely, he was sizing me up," she commented, shaking her head in amusement. "If he'd been feeling bold and I was a bit smaller, I think he'd have tried to take me then and there. As it is, I think he's probably tracking me now with four or five of his buddies." She took another bite of her venison, and smiled as she chewed. 

"Come on," Katsa said, dubiously. "You can't know that." 

"A group of five or six is most common," Val nodded. "Gives you overwhelming numerical superiority so the target don't fight back, but you also don't gotta split your haul a thousand ways." 

"And with five or six armed men coming this way, you... sit down and have a bite to eat?" 

Val gave a toothy grin and pointed. "Those runes on your gloves there mark you as an Arcanist." It wasn't a question. 

"Yes," Katsa replied, her back stiffening slightly. "Why?" 

Val shrugged. "That kinda thing comes in handy in a pinch." She took another bite and looked around their campsite. 

*** 

"There," said the first bandit, pointing emphatically. "There! Didja see that mouse? It found a bit o' food and bam, out of nowhere, hawk just flew down like a lightning bolt and carried the silly bugger off. That's what you call irony that is." 

"Nah, mate," said the other one. "That hawk couldn't carry no mouse made of metal." 

"Irony, you twit. It's like a coincidence." The first bandit slowly withdrew his sword as they crept along. 

The other one, sword already in hand, stepped up to a large tree trunk, and peaked around the side of it. "A what?" 

"Gods you're dumb," the first one scoffed, shaking his head in wonder. "You could move to a troll town and still be the village idiot." 

"I never heard of no trolls livin' in villages." 

The first bandit cuffed the second on the back of the head. "That's not the point!" The second bandit grimaced and nodded forward, and then continued on through the underbrush. "Look, a coincidence is like... your best mate skippin' town just before your birthday. So it's like yay, it's my birthday, but also bad. You see?" 

"Now I'm lost." 

"That's their campfire right there," said the first bandit incredulously. They stopped and stared at each other quizzically for a moment. "Anyway, like, you want a loaf of bread but you don't have any money. Then you find a bit o' copper only to find out the baker is giving the bread away. That there is irony." 

"Why is 'e giving bread away? Is something wrong with it?" 

"I don't know," the first bandit said, getting irritated. "They're samples or something. Look, it don't matter why e's giving away bread. It's ironic that you find the money and you didn't even need it." 

The second bandit looked thoughtful for a moment. "I ain't never seen a baker give no bread away before. Once had a baker try an' sell me maggoty bread. Tried to tell me it was some kinda 'forrin delicacy'." 

"Some people are stupid enough to think they can get away with anything." 

"Right. Good point!" The second one waved his hand, and both bandits dropped down to one knee. Ahead of them, a small fire had burned itself down to embers. "Smitty said one Orc, but I'm seein' two mounds," he whispered, as they peeked around at the only good camping spot for miles. 

"It's prolly the one from earlier. You ain't man enough to take on one woman?" 

"Good point," said the second bandit, nodding. 

"I gotta teach you another word for yes." 

"Why would I need two ways to say the same thing?" 

"Makes you sound smarter." 

"Oh good point," the second bandit said, nodding. Then he added, thoughtfully, "I reckon' I'd take the copper and buy some ale to go with that bread." 

"You shoulda' saved those coppers and found another line of work," came a woman's voice right behind them. The first bandit gasped as a bloody swordpoint emerged from his chest. The second bandit turned, but his cry was muffled when he felt the knife blade against his throat. "Which one of us were you after?" 

"Y-y-you got us all wrong, lady! We-we're just lookin' for a good time! A bit of slap and tickle!" 

"Oh, it's like that then?" The woman shifted in the dark, revealing dark green skin and a menacing smile. 

"Yeah," the second bandit swallowed, mindful of the blade. His voice gained a bit of strength as he watched the shadows shift over her shoulder. "Me and the other four thought you might be so kind as to 'and over all your goods. We promise we'll be gentle." 

"But what if I like it rough?" 

"I think we can acc-uh.. accommmuh... do that." 

The Orc grinned viciously as she drove her knee up into his groin, and the second bandit crumpled to the ground with a whimper. He heard Smitty leap out from behind a tree just as the Orc turned. 

Smitty's twin blades sang as they whirled through the air. The Orc backed up, putting a bit of space between herself and the awesome display of swordsmanship, and sighed. She flipped the dagger in her hand so she was holding the blade between her fingertips and hurled it. Smitty dropped unceremoniously, the dagger buried to the hilt in his neck. The second bandit rolled onto his back, face purple with strain, just as a huge explosion went off a good bit away from the carnage in front of him. One of their archers screamed in pain. 

An arrow embedded hard into a tree branch above him with a thunk, followed shortly by a curse from someone he hadn't seen until now. A woman jumped from one side of the tree to the other and let loose another fireball, even bigger than the first one. The roar of the second explosion nearly masked the sound of steel on steel, and the last bandit falling to the ground with a wet gurgle. 

The second bandit groaned as the Orc knelt over him, wearing that same vicious grin. "Just make it quick, will ya?" he wheezed. 

"I always do," she whispered, as she drove one of Smitty's swords into his heart. 

*** 

"I um..." Katsa fidgeted, shrugging her shoulders within her cowl. She and Val stood on the far side of the stream now. They'd had to relocate all their belongings away from the now-raging brush fire. "I might have miscalculated slightly." 

"Casualties of war," Val shrugged. "Nothing you can do about that." A minute passed in relative quiet, aside from the raging fire, before the shorter woman gasped. 

"Oh my God," Katsa mumbled, touching her nose lightly. "Oh my God, that arrow was an inch from my face!" 

Val smirked. "It's funny how you push that stuff back in the moment, and survival instincts kick in." 

"Oh my God," Katsa repeated, hands shaking. "I could have died." 

"That your first big brush with death?" 

"Not exactly," Katsa quavered, her eyes distant and wide. "Holy shit." 

"I know that look pretty well." The Orc grinned as she glanced sideways at the shorter blonde. "Feels good to be alive, huh?" Both of them took a step back as a nearby tree cracked and shattered. "I uh," she said with a smirk. "I've got a little ritual after a day like this. If you want to join me?" 

"What is it?" Katsa asked warily. 

Val tugged at the drawstring of her pack, and pulled out a green bottle, wider than it was tall. "Souvet." Katsa nodded hesitantly, and Val dug deeper, coming back up a few seconds later with two cups of unequal size. "Bought this off some gnomes." 

"Why do I get the small cup," Katsa complained, as Val poured some for both. 

"You ever had souvet before?" Katsa shook her head, and Val continued. "'s a bit mild for my tastes when gnomes make it. Doesn't have that bite to it." Katsa gave the cup a curious sniff and frowned. Val held up her cup and waited for Katsa to match her. "Still standing!" 

"Still standing," Katsa repeated, and they drained their cups together. The mage's eyes bulged as she fell into a fit of coughing, holding her chest through pained gasps of air. Val laughed. "That's mild?!" 

"Compared to how Orcs make it?" Val said, still chuckling. "Have another. The second one smoothes it out." Katsa nodded, still coughing, and held out her tiny cup. Val poured herself one, drank that while she poured one for Katsa, and then poured her third. "Bottom's up!" 

"Still standing," Katsa wheezed. She squinted hard as she raised the cup to her lips again. "Uhhgh," she said as she swallowed. "That is..." 

"Better than okay," Val finished. 

Katsa shook her head vigorously from side to side. "Second one was better," she said after a moment of introspection, and held out her cup again. 

"Slow down, killer," Val chuckled. The shorter woman recoiled slightly. "I'm easily double your size." 

"You are... big..." Katsa trailed off, blinking curiously. "I think it's working." Val poured herself another cup full, drinking about half of it at once now. "I could put that out yanno," she drawled, gesturing with her cup at the forest fire raging not so very far away. "With magic." The arcanist wiggled her fingers in the air, grinning. "Make the stream go Woooosh!" 

"So why don't you?" 

"I'm not ready yet," she demanded. "Why are you rushing me?" 

"Oh yeah," Val laughed, as she filled both of their cups again.. "It's working." 

"There's a lot of perper... Perper?!" Katsa giggled and shook her head. "Preparation! There's a lot of preparation involved a lot of people don't know that," the arcanist mumbled in indignation. 

"Still standing," Val shouted, as she slugged back another cup. 

"Still sandan," Katsa slurred. She emptied her cup, and held it out for a refill. The two of them leaned back against a tipped-over tree trunk and watched the fire roar. The bottle ran closer and closer toward empty. "You really are big," she said, looking the Orc up and down as if for the first time. 

"So you've said." 

"So..." Val turned and raised her eyebrows while she waited for Katsa to finish. "Is it true what they say?" 

"Is what true?" 

"You know," Katsa giggled. "About Orc women." When that failed to elicit a response from the big Orc, Katsa extended her index finger and wiggled it in the air. "You know." 

"Oh," Val smirked, as she emptied the last of the bottle into her cup. "People say all kinds of crazy things." 

"They do!" Katsa agreed, emphatically. 

"Yanno, I've always found that when I wanna know something real bad, I've gotta go look for myself." Katsa blinked and nodded slowly, finding no flaw in the logic. Val raised her arms up behind her on the trunk, and spread her legs slightly as the human nervously crouched down in front of her. Katsa could hardly believe herself as she crawled between the powerful legs, but curiosity had once again had her in it's grips. She'd always been powerless against her quest for knowledge, and this particular mystery proved no different. Unlacing Val's breaches took slightly longer, but not nearly as long as she'd thought it would take given how drunk she was. 

"You are...big..." Val loved that reaction. "I don't think I could even get my mouth around it if I tried." Val loved that reaction too. "What do you call it?" Katsa whispered, as she curled her fingers around the flaccid length. 

"I never named it," Val chuckled. She sucked her lip through her canines, a soft hiss escaping as she rested a hand on the blonde's head. 

"No," Katsa said distractedly. The thick green flesh, fading to pink at the end, twitched in her hand. "That's a ssssss... pseudo-penis?" 

"Mmmhmmm," Val hummed, biting a little harder on her lip. 

"So that's your clit in here?" 

"Hey," Val whispered, as she reached down to cup the mages cheek. "How about no more questions right now?" She rolled her hips, brushing the heavy shaft against the pale woman's cheek. 

"I... but I..." The mage trailed off, staring as the ridges along the sides became more prominent, flaring. The glans bobbed in the air, smearing a pearly drop against her cheek. "I..." 

"Turn around," the Orc purred throatily, sounding like a large and very dangerous cat. Katsa shivered as the Orc pawed at her waistband, pulling the pants down her thighs. She looked back over her shoulder at the Orc, licking her lips nervously. Val whistled in appreciation as she took in the delightful curves of the human's milky cheeks. She flexed her hand, toying with the idea of giving the woman a good spank. "Next time," she mumbled to herself. She used her feet to push Katsa's legs together, and settled down on her knees behind. Katsa gasped as the rigid length came to rest between her cheeks. 


Terrible Company Ch. 01



"Just so you know," Val said, grinding the ribbed pole against the shorter woman's ass, "there might have been a little something extra in the souvet." 

"What?" Katsa whimpered. She looked back over her shoulder just as the Orc laid hands on her waist. 

"It's just a little something," Val said, rolling her hip back until the glans pushed against her sex, "to help you loooooOOOOOOOOooooooooo-" 

"Fuuuuck," Katsa screamed, tucking her chin down against her chest. 

"Good Fucking Gods, you're tight," Val grunted. "And that was just the tip!" 

"What?!" 

"Lean forward," Val ordered, her teeth gritted tightly. 

"Why?!" 

Suddenly, the Orc bent forward. Katsa's arms collapsed under the weight, and she whimpered at the feel of Val's heavy breasts against her back. "Because I said so," she growled. Katsa's fingers raked through the dirt, looking for anything to hold on to as the Orc straightened up and grabbed her waist again. "Gods above, I've never fucked anything so tight." The bigger woman's fingers tightened around her, and she grunted as she pushed. 

"Fuuck," Katsa whimpered, feeling each flare and ridge as she was stretched. She desperately tried to relax when every instinct in her body was screaming to tense. "Fuuuuck!" 

"FuckinghellIcanfeelitwhenyougrunt," Val groaned, as she slid halfway inside the blonde. "Gruntagain!" 

"What?!" 

"Grunt again," Val roared. Katsa had no trouble emptying her lungs in a guttural heave, and the big Orc shouted wordlessly in approval. Two more ridges slipped through, and Katsa had to blink away some very large tears. "Hang on.. It's about... to get... thicker." 

"Thicker?!" the human wailed. 

Val gave a hard thrust, but the sweaty blonde slid forward through the grass. "I said hold on," Val snarled. 

"To what?!" Katsa screamed over her shoulder. 

"Fine, I'll do it," she growled. Katsa gasped as the hands around her middle lifted her slightly. Her feet, face and shoulders were still touching the ground, but her knees were hovering in the air. Suddenly, the Orc's grip became steel, and she felt herself pulled backwards. Katsa screamed as her lips stretched around first one ridge thicker than the rest, and then another thicker still. "Ahhhh," Val gasped. "It has been a while since I got that far into anything." 

Katsa began to mewl wordlessly as she swayed in the air. Her modest bust was trying to escape through the top of her shirt. Her eyes rolled up behind her lids as the dirt began to accumulate beneath her well-trimmed fingernails. 

Val groaned happily as she pushed her drooling cocksleeve up and down the length. Each Gods-blessed pull buried even the thickest parts inside of the woman, and the way she moaned in mind-numbed pleasure gave Val chills. Those moans ramped up dramatically as Val moved her faster. Fucked her faster. The ridges made a tiny staccato popping sound, though it was completely drowned out by the combined groans of the two women and the raging forest fire that was quickly spreading out away from them. 

Faster and faster, Val pumped, and her hips began to work. It was as much push and pull as it was thrust and withdraw. Katsa's mouth hung slack, whimpering on the inhale and exhale both. On and on, the big green Orc pounded. The skin on the back of the human's thighs pinkened from the constant slapping. Another tree splintered and exploded, though neither of them noticed. 

The Orc grunted hard, her teeth bared as she ramped up in both ferocity and speed. The human wailed below, utterly overwhelmed. Suddenly, Val lifted her up and fell back on her heels, and Katsa screamed as she was impaled. Hot fluid jetted against her core, and immediately began running out of her and down her thighs. Val hollered at the top of her lungs as she came, pinning the human tightly against her. 

Katsa heaved and stared down herself. She could feel it dripping, trailing down her thigh. She felt Val's breath on her neck a moment before the big woman spoke. "If I was a male," she whispered, "I'd have just put a little Orc in your belly. Would your Daddy have liked that?" 

"Hnnngh fuck," Katsa whined, her cheeks flooding with color. 

"Don't think he'd be too pleased with this either," Val chuckled, "judging by that blush." Katsa's arms were weak as she reached down to grab her leggings. It was all she could to to hold them in place while she lifted one leg up and out, finally giving her the freedom to spread her legs. Her hair was damp with sweat as she ran her fingers through it. "You little slut," the Orc grinned. 

"Shut up and stay hard," Katsa gasped, as she looked back over her shoulder. She bit down hard on her lip as she rose up slowly out of Val's lap. "Fuck that's gonna hurt in the morning." She felt her cheeks burning as the flared shaft began to pull out, making lewd squelches at every ridge. More and more of the thin fluid poured out of her. "Gods, how much did you cum?" 

"Not as much as I'm gonna," Val grunted, "if you keep that up!" Katsa ran both hands through her short, wet hair, matting it down against her scalp as she lowered herself back down. Sweat covered her brow, and her tongue was alive with the salty taste of it. She slipped one hand down and massaged her clit. It took a while for her legs to find any strength, much less a rhythm, but eventually, she was bouncing up and down on Val's lap while the Orc leaned back and enjoyed the view of the her silhouette in front of the setting sun. 

"Gods woman," Val grunted, appreciatively. The wet slap-slap-slap of their thighs echoed loudly now that the fire had burned through everything nearby it could reach, and was hungrily moving away in the dark to search for new fuel. She leaned forward slightly and slipped one hand against Katsa's groin. "Fuck, I can feel myself in there." 

"Don't... Cum... Yet..." Katsa gasped. Her labored breathing matched her methodical rise and fall. She switched arms for the second time, her bicep and shoulder aching from exertion. "Not.. Yet... Fuck... Not... Yet.." 

"Are you close?" Val strained. 

"Yes... Yes... Yes..." Katsa gasped as the Orc grabbed her by the waist again, holding her in place in mid air, and then again even louder as Val began to thrust up at her. "Oh Fuck! Yes! Yes!! Yes!!" Her skull vibrated each time the woman crashed into her. "Yes!!" she screamed, as her fingers swiped furiously at her overstimulated clit. She threw back her head and cried out, feeling that sudden swell of fullness as the Orc hilted and exploded. She felt herself flagging as she drifted down from the dizzying high, and it was all she could do to lean herself to the side to fall off and away from the the bigger woman. The last thing she remembered was watching Val stumble awkwardly toward the stream, her legs glistening in the moonlight. 

*** 

Val was still lying in the stream when Katsa awoke, the big Orc's lower half submerged in the flow while she laid sprawled out on the bank, snoring. The muscles in her own legs screamed from exhaustion; in fact, nearly every part of her ached. Her skin itched, and at the first attempt to scratch it, big flakes fell away. "That better wash off," she whined, as she flicked away another piece of Val's dried cum. 

She scooped up her dirty clothes and her pot, and went and sat down next to Val. The Orc continued to snore softly while she rinsed and wrung out her leggings. Katsa frowned as she held them up and unfurled them. The embroidery looked clean, but there was so little room for error... 

Val sputtered and flailed as the human upended the small pot over her head. She turned and spat out a mouthful of stream water, and then shielded her eyes as she looked up. "I probably deserved that," she said, blinking exaggeratedly as she wiped her face. "Can't remember why yet. You're still here though," she said with a grin. 

Katsa arched an eyebrow and frowned. "Do not," she shouted, reaching down to poke Val hard in the chest. "Slip me," she continued, jabbing even harder. "Drugs!" Both of them naked from the waist down, knee deep in cool water. 

"You're still here," Val repeated, grinning wider. She absently scratched at her cock, smirking when Katsa averted her eyes in embarrassment. 

The human grumbled under her breath. "Wipe that smug grin off your face. I have no intention of making a habit out of last night." 

"So," Val said, spreading her legs further apart, "is that your way of asking to travel together?" 

"I... thought it would be prudent to travel in numbers. For safety reasons," she added quickly, as an afterthought. She folded her arms over her chest and nodded. "Yes. Safety." 

"Safety. Sure," Val smirked, as she twisted and lifted herself out of the water. "Wouldn't want someone to come along and ravage your tight little... well... not so tight after last night." 

Katsa squeaked indignantly, her mouth agape. 

*** 

"And so, our two adventurers set off together, newfound allies in search of danger and fortune. United by the hand of the fates themselves, untold greatness awaited them on their journey. The amazonian Orc paused, turning with a gleam in her eye and-" 

"I know you're out there," Val shouted. "I can smell you!" 

"Fuck," the Narrator whined, as he ducked and scampered back the way he'd come. Val glared at the treeline for a moment before turning back to Katsa and offered her an apologetic shrug. The two set off down the trail.



Terrible Company Ch. 02



"Help," cried a voice from the street, and Paesa jumped. It had been a slow morning, and she was eager to be able to chip in. Almost all of the beds were full, but those patients were mostly beyond her abilities. And, she saw as she rounded the end of her desk and leapt to the door, so too was this one. "Help me," cried an elderly man propped up in a cart. His leg was twisted, and Paesa winced just looking at it. 

Another man, much younger, hopped off the back of the cart and started helping the wounded man down. "Are you a Healer?" he asked, looking at Paesa. "My grandfather needs a Healer!"

"Well then," she said, as she stepped next to the elderly man and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "Let's get you to a Healer. We happen to ha-" Paesa winced as they walked. It was her turn to take a new patient. 

"Miss, are you alright?" The young man was staring at her. He had the prettiest eyes...

"Yes," Paesa mumbled shyly, her chest flushing.

"Well don't just stand there dawdling, girl!" the elderly man cried. "Get me a Healer! Can't you see I'm in pain?!"

"Oh yes," she said, flustering. "Let's get you inside and off your feet." The three of them hobbled through the cluttered lobby, and turned left down a short hallway. The elderly man grumbled every step of the way.

"So, are you?" the young man asked softly, as they ambled into a larger room. Four beds ran down each wall to either side and straight ahead, of which only one of the 12 was unoccupied. "A Healer, I mean." His wavy brown hair fell around his shoulders gloriously.

"Who, me?" Paesa blushed as she shook her head. "I'm just an apprentice. Someday though, Gods willing." The elderly man moaned in pain as she and the young man spun to set him on the bed. "I'm gonna go get the Healer now," she said, making brief eye contact with the young man that made her middle quiver. She turned and darted down the hallway. "Healer Iona?"

The serene Elf, tending to a sick girl, looked up from her work and smiled. "Yes, Child?"

"Have you seen Healer Mathilda?"

Iona pursed her lips, her smile souring. "I believe she is in the shrine, communing with her God." 

"Thank you, Healer." Paesa bowed, as Healer Iona preferred, doubled back through the lobby, and headed down a different, longer corridor. The large wooden doors that lead to the shrine had never looked so imposing. She took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves, and walked through. 

The Temple of Mended Wounds was comprised of eight rooms, of which the shrine was by far the largest. Although the Healers who practiced their craft within the walls of the temple served different Gods, they had all worked in relative harmony to keep a non-denominational place of worship. She herself had been healed there once as a little girl, pulled back from the brink of death after taking a tumble out of a third story window. Every time Paesa entered it, she always felt a kind of serenity wash over her. 

That serenity was somewhat undercut by the thunderous snoring of the Dwarf passed out against the side of the altar. There was an empty bottle in her hand, and another one 15 feet away in the middle of the aisle. Mathilda's long black hair was draped across her face, and fluttered gently with each raucous exhale. "Healer Mathilda," Paesa whispered from the door. "Healer Mathilda." There was no response.

Paesa nervously crept across the room, whispering "Healer Mathilda," over and over, but the Dwarf's heavy breathing continued, unabated. "Healer Mathilda," she squeaked as she knelt down, her hand hovering just beyond touching. "Healer Mathilda!"

"Wha'!" Mathilda roared, flailing to slap away the girl's hand. "Where am I? Wha'?!  Ooooh Fuck," she said, as she sat up. "Why'm Ah here?"

"Healer Iona said you were... communing with your God?"

"Heeler Iona," Mathilda snarled, as she rolled onto her knees, "is a smug bitch who likes to play word games. Now why did Ah..." She looked down, somewhat surprised to see a bottle still clutched in her fingers. "Oh. Right." She set the bottle down on the altar, and rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. "Why're you here, lass?"

"I... I came to get you," Paesa stammered. "You have a patient."

"My turn already?" Mathilda pushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ears. "Wha' time is it?"

"Almost midday," the girl said.

"Ohhh, fuck," she grumbled. "Ah really tied it on last night, Ah s'pose."

Paesa bit her lip, and decided to risk it. "I was talking to Healer Flynn, and she said the Widow Ursed's passing wasn't your fault."

"A'course it weren't!" Mathilda growled, shaking the bottle to see if anything remained. "Ah di'int make her sick, bu' that don't make it any easier to watch 'em die!" 

"Healer Flynn said you eased her pain," the girl said, comfortingly.

"An' Ah'm sure she'll be right thankful in the next life." Mathilda shook her head vigorously and scratched at the back of her head. "Now wha' did that miserable sonnuvabitch send for me today?"

"A broken leg," Paesa said, smiling. 

Mathilda blinked and composed herself. "Go to my desk, lass, and fetch me the clear bottle with the brown stuff inside, yeah? The one wrapped in felt cloth."

"Is that one of your blessed liquors?"

"It's at least one of those things," she mumbled under her breath. Mathilda twisted at the hip, her back cracking as she stretched back and forth. Paesa smiled again, and headed back toward the lobby. 

Her smile faltered, somewhat, when she opened Mathilda's comparatively-tiny desk. There were dozens of bottles of varying sizes and colors, some wrapped and some bare. Paesa was still sorting through them when the little Dwarf rumbled through the lobby on her way to the patient, and the girl cringed as she waited for the yelling to start. She didn't have to wait long. In desperation, she grabbed one of the bottles and ran down the hall. 

"-shouldn't be on a horse at all, ya dumb bastard!"

"I fought in the war!" the elderly man protested. "I'll ride whatever I damn well please!"

Mathilda waved the girl over, and grabbed the bottle out of her hand. "Well it's a good thin' Ah've got nothin' better ta do than fix your stupidity." She ripped the cork out of the top of the bottle, and took a swig off the top. Paesa opened her mouth, but the Dwarf immediately laid her index finger across the girls lips and took another swig. "Works as regular liquor too, lass."

"Are you gonna help me," the elderly man wailed, "or-"

"Shut it," Mathilda snapped, as she handed him the bottle. She grumbled softly under her breath as she took a good long look at his leg.

"Is there another Healer we might see?" whispered the young man as he stepped in front of her. Paesa giggled nervously, having forgotten how cute he was, and immediately tried to recover her straight face. "If I'd known she was just going to get him drunk, I'd have taken him to a bar."

"Healer Mathilda may be... uh..." Paesa floundered for a moment, searching for the right word. "Unconventional. Yes. I assure you though, she's quite good." The young man seemed unconvinced. 

Mathilda pressed her right hand down on the broken leg, and reached over with her other hand to tip up the bottom of the bottle. The elderly man sputtered indignantly. "Keep drinkin'," she said, distantly. "Ah'll tell ya when ta stop." 

A soft yellow light coalesced around her hand, and Paesa smiled. The cantankerous little dwarf had the bedside manner of an ogre, but no one could deny that her God moved through her. Rhogan sustained her and answered her prayers for healing long after everyone else had lapsed into exhaustion. Behind her back, the other Healers joked that he always answered her call because the poor deity was terrified of her wrath. 

"-can't believe this is wha' you thought Ah'd want," the Dwarf grumbled, and as the volume of her voice rose higher and higher, so too did the brilliance of the glow around her hand. "Mendin' folk too stupid to keep themselves from harm. This is wha' Ah gave up a decade for?"

"Excuse me," the elderly man sputtered, but Mathilda just reached up and shoved the bottle back against his lips.

"Keep drinkin, ya twat." She closed her eyes and focused, and Paesa swore she could feel something. It never happened with Healers Iona or Flynn, but with Mathilda there was always an indescribable presence during healing. She'd tried, on several occasions, to put the feeling to words, and always came up shorty. "There," Mathilda said finally. "May Rhogan bless ye, ya dumb fuck. Two days bed rest." She reached up, snagged the bottle back, and immediately took a long pull. "Ah'll be communin' if ya need me," she said on her way out of the room.

"My leg," the elderly man whispered. His grandson tilted his head in astonishment, and Paesa took a deep, slow breath through her nose. She could barely wait until that was her.

"She's good," the young man said softly.

"She's very good," Paesa corrected. 

"Well when you become a healer, I'll have to break my leg too."

"What? That's ridicu..." Paesa giggled nervously again. "Oh. Well... um... maybe you don't have to wait quite so long?"

"Maybe I won't." The girl covered her mouth to stifle yet another nervous laugh, and headed back toward the lobby. 

Healer Flynn was back at her desk, making an entry in their ledger. "Are you happily sighing because you got to see Healer Mathilda in action again, or was it because there was a cute boy?"

Paesa gasped. "I-I... wasn't... sighing."

The thin, redheaded woman smiled knowingly. "The boy, then."

"No," Paesa repeated indignantly. 

"He is very cute," Flynn said, grinning.

"Perhaps," Healer Iona said, as she stepped into the room, "if you spent less time moonstruck over boys and more time tending to your lessons, you would be closer to ending your apprenticeship."

Paesa bowed her head and nodded. "Yes, Healer Iona."

"Oh, lighten up." Iona regarded Flynn with a flat expression, but Flynn continued anyway. "The girl needs to know that unwinding is healthy. Otherwise, she'll end up as torqued as the runt."

Paesa squeaked; it was always confusing for her when the Healers disagreed. There was no clear hierarchy between them, which left her serving three masters. Mathilda was the most powerful, and certainly the most skilled, but her method was unique to her God and Paesa was still unsure how much the Dwarf could actually teach her. Iona and Flynn, on the other hand, were model Healers of middling skill and power. 

Finally, Iona sighed and nodded. "I've never met anyone who needed a good fucking as bad as she does." Both Flynn and Paesa gawked, as the Elf was not prone to crude language, and the three of them burst into a fit of laughter. 

Paesa was the first to recover her composure. "Isn't it our duty to help her then?"

"What?" Flynn gasped, still out of breath. "No. No."

"Actually," Iona said, thoughtfully tapping her lips.

"No," Flynn repeated. "We're not-"

"Not us, " Iona intoned, "but perhaps we could... facilitate something."

"That's insane.  This is insane."

"Think how much easier she would be to deal with," Iona whispered. All three of them paused, considering.

***

"Oooo, she's a looker ain't she," Eban brayed. They'd found him two bars over and four pints down. "Forget the gold. She'll be payment enough." 

Paesa looked at the other two and shrugged. She'd always thought Mathilda was fair, for a woman, but she had no idea they were working with a real Dwarven beauty. Eban spat into his palm, and smoothed out some of the scraggly hairs in his beard before crossing the crowded room with a confident stride. Mathilda was already seated at the bar, in the same spot she'd been for several hours.

The three of them craned their necks and watched as the Dwarven male scaled the empty barstool next to her, and tried to strike up a conversation. Mathilda was unresponsive at first, which only seemed to spur Eban on. His commentary became more and more emphatic, to the point that they could hear his voice through the din if not quite understand him. The more he talked, however, the more sullen Mathilda appeared. After a particularly jubilant guffaw, she spun and decked him. Eban flew backwards off his barstool and landed hard on his side. 

"Wha' a woman," he said as he came back, his eye puffy and swollen. "Dinnae think Ah'm right for 'er, though. Sorry to disappoint, lassies."

***

Finding any Dwarven woman in the city had proven to be difficult to start with, but finding a lesbian had been maddening. They'd found seven more male Dwarves who were more than keen on Mathilda in the time it took them to find a lesbian, and none of the males walked away with less than a broken tooth. 

"Her?" the female said incredulously, when they pointed Mathilda out from across the inn. "How desperate do you think Ah am?"

"We thought..." Paesa looked at Flynn and Iona for help, but they were just as shocked as she. "We thought she was very beautiful for a Dwarf."

"Whaddya mean, 'for a Dwarf'," the small woman roared. "'At's a bit racist, don'tcha think?"

The three of them watched the woman they'd pinned their hopes on storm out the door and into the night, and they collectively sagged in their seats. "I don't get it," Paesa whimpered. 

Iona suddenly sat up straight, her eyes focused far beyond the wall. "We have been going about this all wrong," she droned, as if in a trance. "If war came to our doorstep, would either of you hesitate to throw yourselves in front of our wards that they might gain precious seconds to escape?"

"Of course not," Paesa said, defiantly. 

"Oh," Flynn replied, looking down soberly.

"What?" Paesa looked back and forth. "What?"

"It's should be one of us," Flynn admitted. 

"Oh." Paesa swallowed hard. "Have... have either of you two ever... um... with a woman?" Both Healers shook their heads. 

Flynn spoke up first. "I mean, I've thought about it, but..." That didn't surprise Paesa. Flynn had always seemed like a worldly woman.

"I... have too," Iona said reluctantly. "What?" she asked, at their incredulous stares. "I have needs."

"Have you had your needs met this century?" Flynn asked with as much of smirk as she could manage.

"Just last week," Iona said, defensively. 

"With who," Flynn demanded.

"Not that it's any of your business, but the... Fruits vendor? In the Sallas market?" Flynn gave her a dubious look. "The tall one."

"Oh. Ooooooh. Gareth?"

"Garress, yes." 

"He's cute."

"What about you, Child?" Paesa froze at Iona's question. "Have you ever thought about it?"

"...no..."

"Really?" Flynn asked, with a disbelieving smile. "Not even thought about it? I just assumed everyone had."

Paesa, whose sickly expression had been getting progressively sicklier, shook her head. "Not yet."

"Would this be your first then?" Iona asked softly, and Paesa nodded. "Don't worry then, Child. It will be one of us."

"What?" Paesa cried. "No! I mean, you were... what, going to pick straw?" Before either of the could voice an objection, Paesa jumped off her stool and looked around. Finding three pieces of straw of unequal length around the floor of the Inn took less than a minute, and her face was set with determination as she strode back to her seat. "I want to help," she said firmly, holding out her fist and the three strands.

"Dear, it's not like-"

"Just because I'm new doesn't mean I'm any less committed," she said, her voice less steady than she would have liked. "I would gladly lay down my life, just like you said." 

"You may have to lay down," Flynn added with a smirk. "Those aren't good odds."

"Assuming she doesn't punch you just for approaching her." Iona snidely added, "Given the last few to try..."

Flynn turned back to Iona and stared for a moment. "You and Garress?" she said, disbelievingly, as she shook her head. "Not in a million years."

Iona cleared her throat. "Focus, Healer Flynn," she said, achieving effortless grace in the space between one breath and the next. "So we're agreed then? The short straw will attempt to bed Mathilda?" She raised an eyebrow as she looked at Flynn and Paesa, and each nodded in turn. "Very well then. Healer Flynn, would you like to start?"

Flynn took a deep breath, blew it back out through pursed lips, and quickly plucked a straw from Paesa's outstretched fist. Iona smoothly took the second, and for a few moments, silence reigned. Flynn and Iona looked at each other, at each others straws, and then at Paesa. The girl, for her part, stared down at her hand. At the tiny piece of straw that remained. 

"It's not too late to back out, Child."

"No," Paesa whispered. "It's okay." 

"We could stay and help you get started," Flynn offered, and Paesa nodded slowly. 

"If you're going to do this tonight," Iona said, "now seems like a good time." They all turned to see Mathilda ranting at the barkeep, who had his arms folded over his chest and was calmly shaking his head. 

"You go get her," Flynn said. "I'll get us another couple rounds."

Paesa slipped off her stool. This is for the greater good, she told herself. Her legs felt numb and her mouth filled with cotton, but her resolve was strong. Each step lighter than the last.

"-had more'n 'at b'fore brea'fast, boy!" Mathilda roared, but the 'boy', who looked to be well into his 40's, merely frowned and shook his head again. "Ah've got coin! Don' tell me ya don' want money, ya greedy bastard!"

"Healer Mathilda?" Paesa interjected. Mathilda's cheeks were flushed, and she peered blearily as she looked Paesa up and down. "Have they cut you off?"

"Aye, lass," she said, looking forlornly into her mug. "Rhogan giveth and he taketh away, miserable bastard that he is."

"Well, we thought you might want to join us." Paesa smiled as she pointed to the far side of the room.

"We who?" Mathilda squinted and stared across the room. Iona waved, and Flynn was just getting back to the table. "Lass, Ah'd rather hump an angry wolverine than sit with those two prigs for twenty minutes."

"There's already a mug waiting for you," Paesa whispered with a grin.

"Well why di'int ya say so?" Mathilda climbed down from her stool and tottered along behind Paesa as they made their way back across the busy inn. "These contraptions are heightist," she complained, as she scaled the stool. "Outta build stairs on 'em."

"Hello Mathilda," Iona lilted, raising her mug at the Dwarf. "I would welcome you to the after work party, but I think you started that with your lunch."

"Tell ya wha'," Mathilda said, as she settled on her stool. "You don' pretend yer happy to see me, an' Ah won' pretend Ah'm not just here for the pint."

"Oh come now," Flynn piped in. "It was a long day for everyone. Even Iona needs to unwind from time to time." She gave the Elf a little smirk. The Elf raised an eyebrow and sipped her mead in indignation.

"Gotta be careful gettin' an elf to unwind. Tha' whole race is a bit unhinged if ye ask me," Mathilda said as she picked up her mug. "Live in trees long enough, an' yer bound ta be nuts." The Dwarf guffawed at her own joke and took a swig of her beer. Sighing happily, she wiped the foam from her chin. "Ahhh, now that's tha stuff. Can ya believe that bastard cut me off?"

Iona narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. "Doesn't he know you shouldn't cut off a Dwarf? They're already so short." 

Mathilda barked, spilling a bit of her beer into her lap as she laughed. "Ah di'int know ya had it in ya, Elf!"

Paesa cleared her throat, and leaned a little closer to the Dwarf. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? We're always so busy at the Temple, and I never get the chance."




Terrible Company Ch. 02



"A'course, lass. Fire away." 

Paesa took a deep breath. Mathilda took a long sip and watched her over the rim. "So Rhogan...."

"Dwarven God of Booze. Technically, God of Liquor, Ale, Beer, an' Spirits, but 'at's a mouthful."

"Not wine?" Paesa asked. 

"Wine is for sissies," she scoffed. 

"I cannot," Flynn said, staring at Iona, "for the life of me, stop thinking about you and Garress."

"The fruity man?" Mathilda asked.

"I..." Iona paused to swallow. "I healed his hand."

"All night long," Flynn added with a smirk. 

"See, 'at's why we don't hang out more," Mathilda said, frowning and shaking her head. "You lot are weird." 

Flynn licked her lips. "Healer Iona, would you do me the honor of showing me the technique you used with him?" Iona spewed a bit of the sip she'd just taken back into her cup of mead, and blushed. "I can't get it out of my head."

"Of... of course..." The two of them politely nodded to their bewildered co-workers, and stood up with furtive grins.

"If it took all night," Mathilda shouted, "Ah hardly think it's worth learnin'." She shook her head, and turned back to Paesa "Ah know they 'ave their own ways'a doin' things, an' Ah know ya share the same Goddess as Flynn, but... it shou'nt take all night to heal a hand. Not 'less ya gotta grow it back from a stump or some such."

Paesa nodded and took a huge gulp of her ale. "So, Rhogan. I wouldn't have thought a God of Booze would have much need for a healer."

"Never had a hangover, Lass?" Paesa's eyebrows rose as she nodded slowly. "Most Dwarves hold with Verhot, may his forgefire never be quenched," she added by rote, "or Faeran the Builder, but every last one of 'em prays to Rhogan when they're bent o'er a bucket in the wee hours."

"It sounds like you'd be in high demand. What brought you here, away from your people then?"

"Ah think the sonnavabitch 'ad his sights set a wee bit higher for me, if ya know wha' Ah'm sayin'."

"You do a wonderful job," Paesa rushed, sensing her moment. "I like watching you work the most, to be honest."

"That's sweet, lass." Mathilda tilted her head back, draining the last of her mug.

"Is the alcohol always a part of it?"

"That miserable bastard finds it's easier to work on 'em who drink of his cup, or some such drivel." She rolled her eyes and smirked. "Ah've got blessed moonshine, an' holy hooch. The sacramental ale is my fav'rite. Tastes like home."

"That is... actually fascinating..." Paesa took a sip of her ale, while Mathilda stood up on her stool and reached across the table to grab Iona and Flynn's mugs. "Is any of it used for actual... like... worship?" 

"Bein' drunk is worship, lass."

"Well you're very good at it," Paesa said with a nervous smile.

"At drinkin'?" Mathilda scoffed. "Ah outta be. Been doin' it since b'fore Ah knew how ta walk." She gave Iona's cup a hesitant sip, and frowned. "Or were ya sayin Ah'm good at bein' drunk?"

"What? No! I mean..." Paesa winced and sighed. "Nevermind." She shook her mug, feeling just the tiniest dregs sloshing at the bottom. "Um, Mathilda?"

The Dwarf drained Iona's cup in one go, and slammed it back down on the table. "Yes, lass?"

Paesa bit her lip, her nervousness growing. "I think I'm ready to go home, but it's kind of far, and..."

"You want Ah should walk ya home, dear?"

"If it's not too much trouble!"

"Pretty thing like yerself? S'probably fer the best," she said, as she crawled backwards down her stool. "Wouldn't want some drunken sod ta drag ya into an alley an have 'is way with ya! Or worse!" Mathilda laughed uproariously. Paesa forced a small laugh, her nervousness graduating to full on anxiety. "Come on, lass."

***

Paesa meandered down the streets, weaving from side to side. She was more than buzzed, but not enough to have so much trouble walking straight. It was Mathilda, who had a death grip on the cinch at the waist of Paesa's dress, who dragged her back and forth. The Dwarf was beyond intoxicated, grumbling none too softly under her breath about a great many things; the nerve of certain bartenders, the audacity of stoolmakers, and the shameful behavior of what seemed to be every male Dwarf in town. For her part, Paesa merely smiled appreciatively. Her second thoughts about the endeavor had come and gone, along with third, fourth, and fifth. She paused outside the darkened wheelwright's shop and took a deep breath. If she didn't do it now, she never would.

Mathilda stopped and turned back to her. "Ya alright, lass?"

"I, uhm..." 

"If you need to blow, Ah'd appreciate it if ya went a bit down an alley. 'At kinda thing's contagious."

"Well, I -" Paesa wrung her hands in front of her.

"Dun worry, Lass. Ah'll be within earshot 'n'case some dastardly ne'erdowell gets 'is mitts on ya."

"I... I was just curious. How come..." She trailed off as she tried to find a tactful way to broach the subject. "I um..."

"Are ye gonna be sick, lass?"

"No! I..." She sighed, and took a deep breath. "The room I rent is behind this shop. Would you like to come inside?" 

"No, Ah was hopin' to get home and do a bit more worshippin', if ya get me?"

"I-I have some mead," Paesa pushed. "Please?"

"So formal," Mathilda scoffed. "How can Ah say no ta tha'?"

Paesa licked her lips, took two steps further, and stopped. "It's for sex. I'm inviting you in for sex."

"Two thins'," Mathilda said, shoring up against the wall. "One, wha' ye've heard about Dwarven women is true. We are phenomenal in the sack. Ah can understand the appeal. B'lieve me." She blinked again and held up three fingers. "Two, Ye've had too much ta' drink lass. Don't be silly." 

Paesa pouted. "You don't think I'm attractive?" 

"Wha'? No!" Mathilda held up a fourth finger. "It's no' that at all. I mean... I'm flattered, an' yer a lovely lass an' all. It's just..." The Dwarf's brow furrowed, at a loss of words in the face of Paesa's disappointment. Mathilda suddenly threw her hands up in exacerbation. "Blast it all, who am I ta be turnin' down a poke. It's no' like me nethers've had any company but me 'and recently." Paesa smiled as she turned, and fished her ring of keys from the pouch in the front of her dress. The Dwarf tottered along behind her, humming something she didn't recognize but enjoyed all the same. She felt the hem of her dress rising up her calves as she turned the handle, and gasped. "It was gonna come off sooner rather than later, lass," Mathilda smirked, as they stepped into the darkened room. 

As soon as the door was shut, the dress was over her waist. Paesa struggled to reach behind to unfasten it while Mathilda's hand rode up between her thighs. After a few seconds of awkward fumbling, she managed to loosen two of the buttons and lift. Mathilda pushed her back against the wall as soon as her arms were clear of the blue-and-white cotton, leaving her in just her bloomers. 

"Ah'll say this fer you humans," the Dwarf said. "You're tha perfect height." Paesa moaned as the Dwarf leaned into her, and began to delicately lick at her breast. Mathilda's hand massaged her outer lips through the soft cloth, and Paesa distantly wondered what she had been waiting for. Her hands, desperate for some way to interact, slid along Mathilda's neck and shoulders. Mathilda's other hand slid against the small of her back. "You poor dear," Mathilda whispered breathily over Paesa's spit-slick nipple. "Ah'm goin' ta ruin you for men." Paesa cried out, biting down on her lip as she tried to think about how thin the walls were. Mathilda's hand withdrew, and the apprentice felt her bloomers fall around her ankles. 

There are fingers between my lips, Paesa thought frantically. Fingers that are not my own! Her eyes rolled wildly as Mathilda poked, rubbed, licked, bit, and suckled. She was so overwhelmed by stimulation that she felt like she was drowning in pleasure. She instinctively wrapped a leg around the smaller woman to brace herself. Mathilda growled in appreciation, her fingers and tongue attacking her more aggressively. Paesa felt her hips start grinding against the Dwarf's hands, desperate for release.

"These are just lovely li'l things," Mathilda mumbled. Paesa gasped as she felt her breast sucked deeper into warmth and wetness, and at teeth that bit so delicately. She let out a throaty moan as two fingers pushed inside of her while the thumb kept pressure on her button. "Ah'm honored, lass. Ah thin' Ah just popped tha' for the first time, di'int Ah?"

"I-mmmmhhhhhhh?!," Paesa fought back a guttural moan as the Dwarf stabbed deeper. Her hips jerked back and forth, pleading with the fingers to go deeper.

"Yanno," Mathilda said softly, "another thing. Humans are so wonderfully fleshy. It's just softness all the way 'round." The hand pressed against Paesa's back slid down, and the Dwarf's little fingers sank into her cheek. Mathilda sighed happily as she buried her face in the girl's bosom, and Paesa slowly floated away. 

For minutes on end, the fingers worked in and out of her womanhood. The thumb, pressed softly on that most sensitive spot, worked in tiny circles. A wetness crept down her thighs, and Paesa felt a... building anxiety. Her breathing quickened, and her stomach began to flutter. She let out a long, warbling moan, and her ears filled with the sound of her pulse racing. Suddenly, Mathilda's fingers withdrew, and Paesa screamed as they pressed hard against her clit. The Dwarf swiped them back and forth quickly, and the anxiety rose sharply. 

Her panting echoed loudly in the room. Louder and louder. Her upstairs neighbor thumped hard on the floor, thump-thump-thump! Paesa squealed as she tried to clench everything, to bring her body back under control, and completely lost control of everything. "'At's right, lass! Sing it!" Thump-thump-thump! The apprentice was vaguely aware of how loud she was being, but only vaguely. "Tell the heavens, lass!" Paesa's throat was raspy and raw as she slumped in Mathilda's arms.

Her world shifted sideways somehow. Bouncing. Her head lolled as she sighed. She could just make out Mathilda smirking beside her, although at a really weird angle. It took her almost the entire time she was being carried to the bed to figure out she was being carried at all. Mathilda grunted softly as she set Paesa down. "A woman's first time is no small thing," the Dwarf said, as she stumbled over and plucked a bottle off of the counter. "Are ye alright, lass?"

"I'm beautiful," Paesa drawled.

"Aye, that ye are." Mathilda chuckled as she ripped out the cork.

Paesa writhed on the sheets, relishing the way they clung to her sweat-covered skin. "Where did you learn how to do all that?"

"Learn? Lass, Ah'm a hundred and seven." She took a swig from the bottle, and came back over to stand at the foot of the bed. "Ah've 'ad thousands of orgasms. For a few years there, Ah ate more'n Ah drank, if ya know what Ah mean." Paesa didn't, but couldn't quite manage to pull herself away from just feeling the waves running up and down her body. "When Ah was twenty, my oldest sister pulled me aside an' taught me abou' my body."

"Your sister?" Paesa said, suddenly coming to and rising a bit off the bed.

"Aye. At the time, she maintained it was strictly a noble gesture, teachin' me about m'self 'an wha'not. Came to find out years later she 'adn't done the same for any of our other sisters." Mathilda took another swig, and gasped loudly as she lowered the bottle to her side. "Although in her defense, they all fall a bit farther down the hag side of the scale."

"That is..." Paesa didn't quite know what to make of it, but it did get her looking at Mathilda in a different light. The way her nose was round without being bulbous. The way her eyes glittered. The way her lips shined in the moonlight. The generous curves. Mathilda smiled softly, not quite looking at her while she ran through the fields of memories.

"She's no' a lecher mind. She waited 'til I was of age, an' she was gentle. She was abou' my age now at the time. Ah always thought that was a beautiful way to come into it, yanno? Told m'self Ah'd do the same, but our Da passed away a few years later, and Mum a few years after tha'. I was the last girl."

"I'm so sorry," Paesa whispered, unsure of what else to say, but Mathilda shook her head with a smile. 

"Dinnae' be sorry, lass. This was... decades ago." She tilted the bottle back, draining the last of it, and tossed it down on a rug behind her. "Plus, it seems fate 'as 'anded me a pupil of my own."

Paesa bit her lip nervously. She was amazed at how eager she was to be shown. Mathilda pulled off her boots, and began untying the leather vest she wore over her shirt while she talked. "It always throws me a bit when Ah see a human's pelt. Yer like a peach down there." Paesa blinked slowly for a moment, slow to realize the grinning Dwarf was talking about her sex. When she did, she blushed. "No no," Mathilda said, "it's lovely, that is. Perfectly pretty." The shorter woman finished unbuttoning her shirt and let it fall away. Paesa found herself staring at Mathilda's large nipples. The breasts themselves were a fair size, seeming much larger against Mathilda's short frame, but the nipples... Paesa swallowed hard. 

"Allow me then," Mathilda said, as she unbuttoned her leggings, "ta show you what a woman looks like." Paesa frowned in confusion as the Dwarf let them fall. There was a long moment of silence as the apprentice stared, blinking.. 

"It's... braided," Paesa said, in a small and bewildered voice. 

"'At's classy, right there." Mathilda beamed, proudly displaying her beard. 

The Dwarf grinned as she planted a foot on the bed, and stepped up onto it. "Ah use some special oils to give it shine." The young woman swallowed as Mathilda began to step over her, straddling her head, and the post orgasmic fog began to clear in realization. Mathilda was going to want her to- "'Ere," she said, slowly settling down on her knees. "'Ave a look."

"H-Healer Mathilda, wait! I-"

Paesa barely managed a frantic breath before the Dwarf came to rest sex-to-mouth. "This was one of the first thins' my sister taught me, an' now Ah'm gonna teach you." Paesa felt a wetness against her lips, and a strong smell flooded her nostrils. She looked up at Mathilda as the Dwarf's hands filtered into her hair, and whimpered as she felt the Healer grinding against her face. "Tha's it, lass. Dive right into tha' Dwarven pie."

Paesa's lips stayed firmly closed. No matter how much she told herself that she'd chosen this tonight, and no matter how grateful she truly was to Mathilda, she couldn't bring herself to lick. She tapped urgently at Mathilda's thigh, trying to get the dwarf's attention, but the Healer just leaned into her. "Use yer tongue more, lass. Get in there."

The woman's muffled protests fell on deaf ears. All her begging and pleading for naught. Slowly, more of Mathilda's weight pushed down against her, grinding against her mouth. The Dwarf's face was in shadow above her, and Paesa began to slap at the shorter woman's legs to no avail. Finally, she managed to get her hands under the Dwarf's ass and heave, and Mathilda fell forward. The young woman took several frantic gasps before she heard the Dwarf snore.

***

"Sooooooooooooooo," Flynn said, sitting at her desk as Paesa walked in the door. "Did you..."

"The um... the end of the night is a little fuzzy?" Paesa brushed her hair back from her face and smiled nervously. "We did, I think?"

"Details, woman! Details!" Flynn set her elbows on her desk, and her jaw in her palms.

Paesa licked her lips as she set her pack down at her desk, and shook her head. "It happened so fast. I mean, I was... kind of drunk, so I don't think that helped, but we were in the street.. and then we were going into my room, and then she was inside me..."

Flynn giggled gleefully and clapped her hands. "And it was good?"

Paesa took a deep breath. "It was good," she said with a broad smile. 

"It's funny," Flynn mused, looking up at the ceiling, "but I probably care more that you had a good first time than that someone finally getting Mathilda off will make work easier."

"Ooooooo," Paesa winced. "About that."

"She didn't?!"

"I... can't... remember," the apprentice said, shrugging. "I sorta remember her carrying me to bed..."

"Wooow," Flynn interjected.

"...and I sorta remember her above me..."

"Iona!" Flynn called.

"... and I awoke using her thigh as a pillow." Paesa wasn't sure what to make of the taste that had been on her tongue.

"That's Healer Iona," Iona said, as she came into the room, looking as statuesque as ever. Flynn's smile said volumes, however, and Paesa thought it was odd that she could read so much about what the two Healers had done the night before. "Are you alright, Child? Do you require any care after last night?" Paesa shook her head. Even though she hadn't been able to arouse Mathilda before leaving, she'd been smiling since her eyes opened.

"Well," came a booming voice from the door just behind her. Paesa and the two Healers jumped and spun to see Mathilda, looking even more miserable than usual. "This is it, then."

"Good Morning, Healer Mathilda," Iona said, but Mathilda merely shook her head.

"M'afraid no', lass. My time here is done." 

"You're leaving," Flynn said incredulously. 

"That miserable sonnuvabitch gave me a vision in m'sleep. T'day's the day."

"That's terrible," Iona said, with only the barest fraction of sadness. "Are you sure you can't stay?"

"Positive," Mathilda grumbled. "Ah know ye'll miss me, an' Ah'm sorry Ah can't give notice for ya to find a replacement, but you lot know how it is with divine visions. 'E says go, so Ah've gotta go."

"And you're leaving right now?" Flynn asked, glancing at Paesa.

"Aye. Long goodbyes are no' my style, but this is brief even for me." She looked up at Paesa, and her miserable expression softened briefly. "Good luck, lass." She turned and headed back out into the street. Flynn and Iona came out from around their desks to stand next to their apprentice, all three of them looking out the door as Mathilda yelled "Stop!" Everyone on the road stopped and turned, but Mathilda was already heading toward a Human woman with short, spiky blonde hair and an Orc woman with shaggy black hair. "Let's go," she roared, as she started walking ahead of them. The Human and the Orc regarded each other in utter bewilderment.

"That woman is a hurricane," Iona said flatly.

"Yeah," Paesa said, the ends of her lips turning up ever so slightly.

"Hurricanes are bad." Iona shook her head and walked off, with Flynn at her side. Paesa found herself leaning farther and farther forward, watching until the Dwarf was out of sight.



Terrible Company Ch. 03



"And that," the Half Elf said, panting and grinning smugly, "is how it's done."

His lover collapsed into his arms, blushing profusely. "Gods above, that was..."

"I know," Ayen said.

"The way you... and that thing you did with-"

"I know." He smirked, and kissed his panting lovers cheek. 

"... Fuck! I never thought that I... that I would..." 

The Half Elf continued to trail kisses down his lovers neck and across the shoulder. "I was very persuasive," he laughed. 

Suddenly, the left side of the doorframe exploded in a burst of wood chips and dust. Both of them gasped as the door slammed into the dresser on the far side and bounced back. A balding, heavy-set man in a ruffled shirt glared furiously at them as he stepped into the room. "YOU!" he shrieked. "First you seduce my daughter! Then my wife! Then my dog! Now I catch you defiling my only son?!" The noble's face was a particularly unhealthy shade of purple. Veins pulsed like worms just beneath the skin as barely-contained rage seethed.

The youth in Ayen's arms jerked upright, covering himself with the blanket. "You seduced Wuffles?! Before me?!"

"Not another word!" the nobleman bellowed, fixing his son with an frigid stare.

"If it makes you feel any better," Ayen tried to assuage the noble's anger "the dog was your wife's id-"

The mind, whether it be Elven, Orcish, or in this case, Human, is capable of incredible feats.

An infinitely complex machine, comprised of gears and springs with little bits of squiggly gray matter in between, working in something akin to harmony to churn out thoughts and ideas. Somewhere inside the noble's head, an overworked and decidedly underpaid spring finally decided it had had enough and snapped. Gears groaned and shuddered under the strain as all thought ground to a complete and utter halt.

Brandishing his sword and screaming like an enraged potbelly pig, the nobleman charged the bed. Ayen yanked up on the covers and laughed gleefully as the blade caught within the sheets. He feinted to his right, and spun away as the overweight man lunged across the bed. The Half Elf snatched up his clothes, threw open the window, and blew his young paramour a kiss before leaping to freedom. The noble squealed for his guards, but Ayen was already gone. He landed with a graceful roll and took off butt naked through the gardens, cock proudly waving back and forth as he vaulted hedges. 

Ayen streaked around the corner of the servant house and nearly ran head first into a stable hand leading one of the lord's stallion's out from the stables. He tore the reins from the stunned servant, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and side-vaulted onto the big brown charger. A crossbow bolt whizzed past his cheek and Ayen gave an exhilarated cheer as he bent low over the horse, whipping it's hind quarters with the sleeve of his shirt and making good his escape in a cloud of dust. The first rays of dawn were creeping over the treetops as he tore off into the woods.

***

Ayen whistled a merry tune as he strolled through the streets of Jonehn. Every day he was alive felt like a blessing, but any that started as wonderfully as that one had was truly a Godsend. He flashed a smile at a comely young woman walking the other direction, earning a lovely blush in return. However, his appetite was pulling him in a slightly different direction just then and he always trusted his gut on important matters. His eyes settled on an apple cart just getting set up on the corner of the street. A few shuffled steps and a momentary pause to gaze at the sun put him passing the cart just as the merchant was coming around to stop the wheels with a wedge.

Of course, Ayen was too busy staring off down the street to notice someone crouched as low as the merchant was, and they collided. Both men yelled as they careened, their wobbled steps taking them in wide arcs. No one noticed the tip of Ayen's knife, tucked neatly into his palm, making a thin slice in the hemp sack, but they did notice the spill afterwards as the apples tumbled every which way. The merchant's flustered cussing drew eyes from every direction, including the eyes of a jeweler displaying his wares not twenty yards further.

***

Tira, the big-eyed serving girl at the Bronzed Boar, gave Ayen a sly wink as he sauntered in a few minutes later. "So what kind of trouble have you been getting into?" she asked, as she met him at his favorite table. "Or should I ask who did you get yourself into?"

"I'm insulted!" he said, pressing his hands to his chest in feigned shock. "You know there's only room in my heart for you." He hooked his thumb inside his vest and, as he pulled it away, withdrew a silver chain adorned with a heart-shaped locket. "Why, not ten minutes ago, I was talking to a jeweler, up from Hegard, about you, and he was so moved by my description of the depths of your eyes he parted with this lovely piece for a song. Practically nothing. Said he couldn't imagine it going to anyone less lovely than yourself, sight unseen!"

Tira gasped softly as she cupped her hand beneath the necklace. "It's beautiful," she whispered. The chain pooled in her palm as Ayen deftly slipped his hand around her waist, and she gave him a knowing look as she leaned into him. "It's almost as beautiful as that silver tongue of yours." 

He ran his hand up the back of her neck, collecting her long dark hair and raising it out of the way. "I am both shocked and appalled that you think my motives might be anything less than pure."

Tira smirked as she reached back, clasped the chain around her neck, and tucked it under a blouse that did a fair job of hiding her ample bosom. "I put in the order for your lunch when you walked in the door, but it will be a few minutes." She turned and stepped closer to him, her voice husky and low. "Maybe you could show me that trick with the cards again?"

"It'd be my pleasure!" Ayen dropped into the bench seat of his favorite booth with a wide smile, and reached into the inner pocket of his vest to produce a deck of well-worn cards. Tira turned to face the room momentarily before flipping the back of her skirt up and sitting down on Ayen's lap. The Half Elf was only mildly surprised to feel her bare thighs.

"Slip it in," she whispered, with a nervous glance around the room. "Just for a few minutes." She braced herself against the table and lifted herself slightly. Ayen's quick hands were good for many things, he'd found, but none more so than being able to unbutton his pants and withdraw his considerable length in the blink of an eye. He slouched a little for a better angle, and pushed the eager head up against her moist lips. Tira bit her lip, stifling a small moan with one eye pinched shut, as he fed inch after inch into her greedy hole. "Fuck yes..." Her eyes fluttered slowly as she finally sat back down.

"Now," Ayen said, reaching around her waist as he peeked over her shoulder. "Th-uuuuu... the trick."

"Mmmmm, yes," Tira purred.

Ayen spread the cards out in a line, face down, and bit into the shoulder of the serving girl squirming in his lap. "Behave or we'll get caught," he hissed.

"Almost getting caught is the fun part," she whispered back, wiggling her hips again. "Look at them all."

He laughed softly as his hands danced over the cards, trying to decide which particular trick to show her. "Ooo-oooo-oookay," he said, stumbling over his words during a particularly slow grind. "Pi-hnnnnngh... pick aa-aaaany card."

"This one," Tira said, selecting a card at random. "Mmmm, full..." She smiled warmly at the face of the Rabbit Prince, with his broken sword. "Now what?"

"Put it back in the deck," he said. He reached his hand around her waist, and pulled her in tight to him. Tira winced and gasped, feeling the hardened tip press against her cervix. "Good, good." He collected the cards and split the deck twice, with Tira rolling her hips in a tight circle all the while. He licked his lips as he split the deck once more, and flipped over the top card. He blinked, staring down at the well-prepared Centaur of The Wanderer card.

Tira grinned as she looked back over her shoulder. "Is your mind someplace else, perhaps?"

"I think it's that wonderful cunt of yours," he growled into her neck. "Has my wits in a fog!"

"Tira!" a deep voice boomed from across the room. The serving girl giggled as she smoothly spun on his lap and stood. She stayed in front of him for a moment, bending forward to straighten her dress before scurrying back toward the kitchen. By then, Ayen had already tucked himself down into his pant leg, and was grinning like he'd stolen an entire city's worth of cream. "You have other tables to tend to." Moiren, the stern matron of the Bronzed Boar, dismissed the blushing girl with a nod of her head, and fixed her sour glare on Ayen. 

"Moiren, my dear!" Ayen flashed the innkeeper a smile full of charm. "You are a sight for sore e-"

"Save it," Moiren barked, and the wide woman folded her arms across her chest. "I'm no doe-eyed girl for you to woo. You weren't planning on paying for that food with honeyed words were you?"

Ayen gasped in mock pain as he stood and withdrew the purse of the apple merchant he'd run into earlier in the day. "I think this should cover lunch, aaaand the next few days..." he said, marveling at the quantity of silver mixed in with the copper. 

Moiren grimaced as she pushed the coins back and forth on her palm. "It will at that," she allowed. "Doesn't mean I won't still count the utensils at the end of the day." Ayen smiled brightly as she turned, and stuck his tongue out at her back as she stormed back into her kitchen. He just had time to sit back down before Tira came by again. 

"Your duck will be done in a bit," she lilted, as she swayed past his table with two mugs in each hand. "Maybe later, I could help you finish that trick?"

"You give the best help in a hundred leagues," he mumbled, leaning slightly out into the aisle to admire her backside. He smiled to himself as he sat back upright in his chair. It was turning out to be quite a day. Ayen closed his eyes and let his senses broaden. He could smell his duck cooking in the back, and the lingering bitter of the ale that had wafted past his table. The nervous sweat of the man in the corner, and the the acids from the tannery he worked at and was going to rob. The last was purely speculation on Ayen's part, but he knew the look of a man about to commit his first real crime. It was a sort of nervousness forcibly-hardening into resolve, and not necessarily by choice. 

More and more, though, Ayen's attention was drawn to the three women seated a few tables behind him. Tira brought by his meal and he ate in silence, listening to them hash out a cloak and dagger plan. After checking his teeth with a knife blade, he stood and strode over to the table of conspirators. "Excuse me," he said, donning a gracious smile, "but I couldn't help overhearing."

"Keep walking," the Orc said soberly, "or I'll put a dagger through your skull."

"I have no doubt you could," he said honestly, and continued in a softer tone. "There's a reason the guards will be increased once your objective is on the move. Going after a stronghold is generally suicide with so few of you."

"Piss off," the Dwarf growled. "Now."

"What do you know about it?" asked the Human, a thin woman with short wisps of blonde hair.

"May I?" Ayen intoned, after he'd already sat down at the fourth chair of their table. The Dwarf looked furious, but the Orc seemed to be hesitantly deferring to the Human. He smiled as he turned to the Human. "Five guards on the defensive are worth a dozen on the move. They have the layout, they have strategy, and they have defensible positions. If they're worth half what they're paid, anyway."

"Not seeing the angle here," the big Orc grumbled, leaning back slightly in her chair.

"Oh no?" the Dwarf said, practically shouting. "Give it momen'."

"Now, if I heard right, you lovely ladies have been hired to re-acquire an asset for it's rightful owner. A noble endeavor," he added, nodding solemnly. "But if this asset is valuable enough to be defended by the numbers you three were sketching out, it's likely to be in a strongbox during transit."

"I think we can handle a strongbox." The Orc looked confident.

"Go on," the Human said, and the other two looked at her incredulously. 

"It's not just about handling it. It's about being prepared for all eventualities. I've heard of strongboxes made entirely of steel, and on the other end of the spectrum, strongboxes made of wax paper and reeds with enough arcana scripted around the sides to make the most hardened criminal pass it by." The Human set her chin on her steepled fingers, and Ayen breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Getting the first one on his side was always the lion's share. "From what I can see, you've got two bruisers and an Arcanist. Am I wrong?"

"Ah'm a Divinist," the Dwarf replied smugly.

"Oh, I had no idea." Ayen put on his very best straight face as he slapped down a small hip flask, with a leather casing adorned with religious iconography, that until a minute ago had been tucked neatly into the Dwarf's pocket. The short, dark haired woman sputtered indignantly. "What you need to compliment your outfit is a bit of subtlety."

"An' there it is," the Dwarf snarled, snatching back her flask. "'E wants in, an' 'e wants a cut."

"Mathilda," the Human said patiently.

"Ah've known dozens like ya," Mathilda rasped. "Thieves an' scoundrels who'll turn their back on ya quicker than you can say 'Highest Bidder'."

"Shuddup, shortstack," the Orc added. Her massive arms were still crossed over her chest forbiddingly, but there was a tilt to her eyebrows that said she was willing to hear a bit more before she made her decision. Ayen did a joyous backflip, inwardly.

Mathilda turned coldly toward the Orc. "You may 'ave that one quakin' in 'er boots," she said, pointing at the Human, "but you an' Ah both know if it came ta blows, ya'd be limpin' away at best."

"It's two to one, Mathilda," the Human said calmly. "We outnumber you, and we want to hear him out. You're not bound to stick around by any means, but we will hear him out." 

Mathilda huffed and sat back in her chair. "Ah'm no' goin' anywhere, an' ya know it."

"Alright then," the human said, turning to address Ayen directly. "I'm Katsa, and this is Val." The big Orc merely nodded.

***

When Ayen awoke in his room several hours later, he smiled. His day was turning out to be most memorable indeed. After warming them over with a few rounds and some insightful comments, he'd managed to talk them into an alternate version of their plan. He then recused himself to "talk to a few contacts and gather some supplies," but the truth of it was that Ayen was merely tired and wanted a nap. 

He had a vivid dream in which the nobleman's wife and son played an interminable game of leapfrog for the right to bed him next. An anthropomorphic ostrich, obviously the nobleman, squawked at him from the other side of a fence about the nuances of the taxable goods law he was going to enforce as soon as he figured out how to work the damnable gate. And hold a pen. After that, it got a little hazy, but Ayen was sure there was wolf cock in it somewhere. Any dream that featured wolf cock, whether or not he was the wolf, was a good one.

Refreshed, Ayen threw open his window and looked out. Jonehn was not counted among the great cities, but it was sprawling. His third floor room looked out over mostly rooftops nearly to the horizon. The setting sun was on the far side of the building, and he thought he might have two hours before he needed to be where he needed to be. That got his mind turning on what the best way to kill two hours might be.

***

"She'll catch us," Tira whispered, from the corner of the tavern Ayen had whisked her to. 

"Weren't you saying, just this morning, that that was is the fun part?" Ayen leaned in, running his tongue along the side of her neck. "Look how busy it is." The evening crowd was full swing. A singer swayed atop a long table against the far wall, backed by two musicians, playing a flute and a lyre respectively. He nipped at her shoulder. "We could do it right here, and no one in this room would know."

Tira bit her lip and moaned as he cupped her breast through her blouse, and then slapped at his wrist. "Fine," she hissed in exasperation, dragging him up the stairs. "You know the matron will tan my hide if she catches us," she said, as she slammed the door.

"Uh-huh," Ayen mumbled amid kisses down the knape of her neck, as deft hands unlaced her corset.

"And I really mmmf... really have a lot of chores to do this evening."

"I have a couple chores for you right here," he grinned, admiring her supple curves free from the corset's bindings.

"I mean with the tavern, you knave! You know she'll be furious."

Ayen cupped the girl's chin and smiled devilishly. "Probably beside herself with rage."

"Likely."

"Out for blood." he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her lips

"Absolutely!"

"I'll just have to invite her to join in next time, and soothe her anger with my magical cock."

The girl giggled in shock. "That cow?! You wouldn't!"

"I have placated many a beast with my roguish charms."

Tira snorted, unlacing his breaches and shoving him backwards. "Goddess knows she could use it." She licked her lips as she crawled onto the bed beside him. "I was thinking about this all day," she whispered. "Couldn't stop sneaking off to corners, or pausing in the larder to touch myself."

"You really do like to toe the line, don't you?"

"More and more." She giggled as she grasped the middle of his cock, and rubbed the head against her outstretched tongue. "Especially since you fingered me in the Baker's shop."

"That was an inspired orgasm," he mused. His smile grew wider when she took the head into her mouth, bathing it as she ran her tongue around and around. "Tease," he whined.

"I'm just making sure it's full grown," she purred. "I'd be insulted if I finally took the whole thing, only to find out that later it wasn't at it's best."

"With as much time as you've spent studying it over the past few weeks" he sang, in as sweet a tone as he could manage, "I would think you'd already know."

"Well then..." She gave his glans one last, delicate lick before closing her eyes and guiding him deeper into her mouth. Ayen gave an approving sigh as she bobbed slowly on the first few inches, lavishing as much attention as she did saliva. 

"Oh yes," he murmured, fascinated by the candlelight reflected on the spit-slick shaft. A little shinier every time, and a little bit deeper too. "Ooooh yes."

Tira's cheeks sunk in, and she pulled back off the tip with a loud pop. "Fuck," she gasped. "I always forget how big it is until I'm staring down the length of it."

Ayen happily grinned. "Not getting cold feet, are you?"

"They are a little cold," she replied, peeking over her shoulder in between long licks up the side of the shaft.

"Swing 'em up here and we'll see if I can do anything to keep your lower half warm."

Tira bit her lip and paused. "That tongue of yours... I swear." She straddled his face, her back arching in anticipation. "How's that work for ya?" she asked, to which he responded with a slow lash of his tongue along her slit. Tira moaned and stroked the base of his cock feverishly while she prepared herself. Ayen kneaded the generous flesh of her cheeks and spread her wide. The room filled with the sound of soft cooing from the serving girl, and the quiet slurping of the Half Elf. His tongue swirled around her clit, never breaking contact.




Terrible Company Ch. 03



Tira wrapped her lips around his head and stroked quickly up and down the base of it. Rivulets of saliva escaped her mouth, and her fingers spread them smoothly. Ayen groaned deeply into her cunt as she tightened her grip, milking him. She glanced over her shoulder, flashing him a wicked smile before engulfing his cock within the warm confines of her mouth again. The Half Elf squirmed as she slurped messily on his shaft, humming tunelessly in appreciation.

"Further," he grunted. 

Tira pulled away for a moment, panting as she giggled. "As you command," she purred. She inhaled deeply, taking nearly half of his cock into her mouth. Each time she went down, she took him deeper. Each time she went further, the back of her throat tightened. Each time her throat tightened, Ayen smiled a little wider. He lapped at her clit at a steady pace, but one of his hands began to creep slowly along her back and up into her neck. Tira moaned as his fingers filtered through her hair. 

"Allow me," he offered, as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and thrust upward from the bed. Tira moaned, planting her hands on the bed to brace herself, as he hit the back of her throat. Her eyes pinched tight as he held himself there, and she warred with her gag reflex. Her stomach, convulsing. Ayen sighed joyfully into her folds. She coughed roughly around him, and he lowered himself back down to the bed. 

"Fuck," she gasped, fighting to catch her breath. She spit a wad onto the glans and gave him a few quick strokes to spread it around. "Again."

"My sole purpose in life," Ayen intoned, as he pushed his turgid length between her lips, "is to help those in need." Tira whimpered as he pressed insistently against the back of her throat. "Especially if what they need is my penis." He groaned loudly, the back of his head sinking back into the bed, as he began to made slow progress into her neck. "That's it. Relaaax."

Tira slapped at his thighs as her cheeks darkened, and Ayen fell back to the bed again. She rasped as she tried to catch her breath, precum drooling from her sagging lower lip. "Deep breath," he warned. Tira nodded, and Ayen cooed as he guided his head back up to her lips. He let it sit there, resting just inside her mouth, for a few moments while Tira puffed through her nose. 

He started slow at first, going from lip to throat over five seconds. Tira jerked as he hit the back of her throat and rebounded. Jerked again. Jerked again. Faster. Four seconds. Jerked again. Jerked again. Faster. Faster. Faster. Jerked again. Two seconds. Faster. One second. Less.

Ayen dropped flat to the bed, and attacked Tira's clit with renewed vigor. The serving girl cried out as she gasped, her eyes misty and leaking, and Ayen was thrilled when he felt her impale her mouth on him again. She quickly went as deep as she ever had, ramming the back of her throat against him.

"By all the Gods and Goddesses," Ayen grunted, "keep... doing... that!" He pulled his hand back to grip her fleshy hips at the same time she wrapped her arms around his thighs. Lawlp-lawlp-lawlp. She easily doubled Ayen's pace, and went harder than he had too. Slowly, bit by bit, his head began to make entry into the deeper parts of her throat. Ayen buried his nose between her lips, encouraging her with every ounce of effort his tongue could muster. 

Underneath the much-louder sound of her throat being ravaged Tira was also whimpering. As that whimpering rose higher and higher, Ayen quickened to match it. His hands both moved to the back of her head and, just as she began her climax, he pushed her down hard. Pushed her down while he thrusted up. Her choked cries, equal parts shock and eye-watering orgasm, escaped her throat in ragged, gurgling shards. Her eyes rolled up behind the lids. The way her throat clamped down on him was so complete that he only needed a few last, miniscule thrusts to finish himself. 

When he released her, Tira sat bolt upright, coughing and gagging. A light sheen of sweat covered her face, neck, and chest. She sat there, panting and grinding her hips, while Ayen probed her insides with his tongue. She had to steady herself with a hand against his stomach to keep from falling over, and her eyes refused to focus. Most of his load had gone down her throat, but enough of it remained to swirl and coat her tongue. His cum was... fantastic.  

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned dreamily. "There's no way she hasn't noticed I'm gone by now."

"You humans live very short lives," he said, pulling himself from within her just long enough to talk. "Too short to waste hustling ale from one sour windbag to another."

"When you say it," she murmured, "I almost believe that there's more out there for me."

Ayen gave her a final lick, and fell away with a light gasp. "If there's nothing for it now, perhaps you'll indulge me in one more request?"

She trembled, her body wracked with mini-quakes. Her hands ran up and down herself, enjoying the feel of the sweat spreading under her palms. Her skin pulsed with energy. "I think you could talk me into just about anything right now."

"I would very much like to be the one to pop your other cherry."

"My what?" Her face scrunched in tired confusion. "What oth-ooooh," she drawled, as Ayen ran his tongue slowly over her anus. "Ooooh Ayen, I-I don't know."

"Have I steered you wrong yet?"

"Well you've gotten me sacked... so yes." She grinned, driving her cleft into his mouth again and against his face, "And you wouldn't be the first. Just... the biggest. By a lot."

"Gods, I bet it's soo tight," he said, more to himself than anything. 

"You're not staying, are you?" Ayen was indicatively silent as Tira smiled and looked back over her shoulder. "One condition."

"Anything," he panted, his eyes focused intently on his prize.

"You can, but it can't be now." Ayen whimpered, and she twisted at the hip to look down at him. "Moiren will be here any minute. She'll yell at me, but you she might hurt."

"She can try," he said, giving her backside another teasing lick. 

Tira spin to face him, straddled over his chest. "It doesn't have to be tonight, or this week, or this month, but come back. Even if it's just for one night."

Ayen pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked her straight in the eye. "You have my word."

"Good," she smiled. "Now go." Ayen grinned as he slid out from underneath her, and threw on his pants. Tira flipped over and laid back against the pillows, luxuriating in the feel of dragging one leg against the other. Her skin was still tingling. Ayen slipped into his trousers and scooped up the rest of his clothes into his hands. "Is that all you're gonna wear?" she asked, as he walked across the room and stood on the far side of the door.

"All I had time for," he said quickly, just as the door burst open. 

Moiren stormed into the room, heading straight for the bed. "Where is he," she screamed. Ayen managed one last wink at the giggling, nude, ex-serving girl on the bed before he snuck out the door behind the matron and made good his second escape of the day. 

***

"I really appreciate this, mate," the second guard said to the first, as they sat in the back of the covered wagon. "Hirin' me on for this was just the chance I needed."

The first guard nodded and checked the tension on the string of his crossbow. "No better time to join up. The Boss is going places, he is."

"Feels like you been talkin' about him for years."

"This right 'ere," the first guard said, as he kicked the strongbox at his feet. "This is gonna put 'em on the map."

"There's a map?"  

"Not ah actual map, you twit. It's ah idiom."

The second guard, unsure of who was being referred to as an idiom, decided it might be better to just switch topics. "What's in the box?"

"The key to the future," the first guard droned, repeating something he'd heard earlier. He watched the forest roll by, and then added a moment later, "No, it's not ah actual key." 

"Didn't think that it was," the second guard muttered defensively, which was, in fact, a lie. "So, I was thinkin..."

The first guard spit out the window, regarding the second warily. "That's nevah a good sign."

"Ilsa and Jan, they's twins, right?"

"Right."

"An' we're each married to one, right?"

"...Are you askin' me because you aren't sure?"

"You ever wonder if maybe there's just one of them, an' she just runs back and forth 'tween our houses? Livin' two lives?" The second guard laughed, shaking an outstretched finger back and forth between them.

The first guard sat forward, his elbows planted on his knees, and smiled. "This is ah auspicious moment, my friend."

"Oh yeah?" the second one said excitedly.

"You see, I keep a list," he said, tapping his temple, "of the dumbest things I've ever 'eard, and you have just taken top honors!"

The second guard smiled brightly, for a moment, until what the first one was saying began to sink in. "Wait, what?"

"That is, without a doubt, the stupidest thing I've ever 'eard. The logistics of one woman runnin' back and forth two miles to cook us both dinner, even just on one day let alone for the 10 years I been married to Jan, is... It's unprecedented is what it is. Number 1."

"Heads up, lads," the driver shouted back at them. "Somethin's on ahead."

"I nevah see 'em together."

"They hate each other. Gods man, you been married to 'er for eight years. Haven't you been payin' attention?"

"We work diff'rent hours!" the second guard protested, pointing to the the first one. "Dinner 'appens at diff'rent times! It's not stupid! Ain't you nevah woke up in bed alone an' wondered?!"

The first guard lifted his chin and sneered. "They sleepwalk, moron. The both of em."

The second guard's mouth slackened bit by bit as he thought. "Ilsa is always tellin' me I need to stand up for m'self."

"Well this ain't the time to start listening to that cunt," the first one laughed, as he casually looked out the window. "Are we slowin' down?"

"Did-did you just," the second guard stammered, his hackles rising. "Did you just call my wife a cunt?!"

"I think we both know I married the smart one," the first one muttered absently, still staring out the window.

"Take it back," the second one hissed.

"I will do no such-" The first one turned back from looking out the window to see that the second guard had his crossbow trained on the first one's chest. " Oy! Are you crazy and stupid? Point that somewheres else!"

"Not until you take it b-"

The interior of the carriage shook violently as something outside slammed against the wall with a pained scream, and the second guard twitched. There was a sudden twang as string, under a considerable amount of tension, propelled a very small projectile very deeply into the chest of an extremely surprised brother. "It's an ambush!" the driver cried, as an orc roared over the sound of steel clashing. The first guard stared, stunned, at the feathered shaft sprouting from his chest. 

"Oh shit," the second one wailed. "Oh shit!" He bent forward, his hands desperately searching beneath his seat. "Band-Aids! Gotta be some Band-Aids in here somewheres!"

"You... stewpid bastard," the first guard mumbled numbly. He raised his own crossbow and loosed the bolt into the neck of the second one just as that one sat up. They stared blankly at each other, as their respective mortal wounds took their toll, until, several seconds later, Ayen dove through the window. The first guard weakly raised his empty crossbow and pulled the trigger again, hoping vainly to take the thief with him.

"This is the best day ever," Ayen whispered gleefully.

***

"Both of them?" Katsa asked.

"Both of them, trained right at my chest!" Ayen held his arms out and pointed his index fingers back at himself. 

"Bullshit," Mathilda scoffed. 

"The air in that wagon was tense," he continued, nodding to add gravity to his words. "I could just smell it. Those two guards were ready for me. Real pros."

"And you just... backed up?" Katsa seemed unphased by the Dwarf's nagging.

"Oh Gods no," Ayen said, shaking his head. "If I had merely tried to move out of the way, they'd have shot me stone dead. The space was too small for me to get very far."

"You just said you got outta the way," Val interjected, as she hefted the strongbox out of the hijacked coach. 

"No, I said I dodged them," Ayen plucked two torches off the front of the cart and handed one to Katsa, who then lit both of them with a few muttered words while touching two of the glyphs embroidered into her gloves. "Big difference. Had to wait for them to shoot, committing their bolts to a specific trajectory, before I could be sure I could move." 

"Yer no' buyin' that, ar' ya?"

"Every word of it true," Ayen insisted. "On my honor."

"Honor," Mathilda snorted. "You dodged two crossbow bolts, poin' blank, comin' from op'site directions?" She shook her head as she pulled up the rear.

"Well what other explanation is there?" Ayen turned and walked backwards to address her. "They certainly weren't dead before I got there."

"They pro'bly shot ea'chotha over somethin' unconnected, an' you 'appened to stumble on 'em while they was still fresh an' bleedin'!"

"Now who sounds ridiculous," he said flatly.

"Ridic-" The Dwarf's nostrils flared as the Half Elf shook his head and turned back around. 

"Let's all just take a deep breath," Val cut in. "We're gonna get paid like professionals, so let's act like professionals."

Mathilda fumed in the back, hefting her massive blood-stained hammer in one hand. "Miserable sonnuvabitch," she mumbled.

"Easy," Val said. "There's no call for that."

"Not 'im," Mathilda grumbled, "'Im." She stared angrily at the night sky and shook her fist. 

***

"Ah wasn't kiddin' earlier," Mathilda grumbled, as she slammed down her empty mug. "Ah've known dozens like ya." She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and glared.

"How fortunate for you." Ayen cut the deck once more and opened his eyes. The Rabbit Prince, with his broken sword, stared up at him. He smiled to himself and reshuffled the deck. 

"S'no' a compliment, ya git."

"Oh." He looked up from his deck and quirked a grin at her. "I just assumed you were talking about either my devilish good looks or my incredible prowess in the heat of battle."

"Prowess in-" The mug in her hand quivered, rattling against the uneven wooden tabletop. "You di'int kill any of 'em! Left 'em all for that great brute of an Orc!" She set her mug aside with the other empties, and grabbed the next one in line. The black-haired Dwarf closed her eyes and mumbled incoherently while holding her hand over the fifth mug.

"That 'great brute' writes poetry," he said absently, as he spread the deck sideways across the table in front of him.

Mathilda scoffed. "Bullshit. An' don't change the subject. Ya hid in tha' bushes like a... like an elf 'til she'd taken care 'o the other three," she ranted, swinging her mug in a wide arc without spilling a drop, "while me an' tha mage were knee deep init with the first carriage."

The thief smiled thinly as he deftly plucked the Rabbit Prince from midair before shuffling it back into the deck. "It's called waiting for the right moment."

"Bullshit!" She finished raising her mug to her lips, and took a long pull. Something behind him drew her eye. Her shoulders tensed. "They're 'ere."

"You only noticed them just now?"

"Wha'sat s'posed ta mean?"

"I heard them a full block away," he said, pausing to while his finger hovered over the deck face down on the table. "with my highly sophisticated thief sense."

"Yer so full of it, lad." Mathilda scowled across the table as she took a long sip. Ayen smirked as he produced the Dwarf's hip flask from under the table. She merely blinked as he unscrewed the cap, and took a long swig. "How did ye..." Mathilda gawked and slapped her thigh without looking. "Tha' was in m'pocket when Ah sat down." Her face turned bright red as she stood up on her stool and practically climbed across the table. 

On the other side of the room, Val and Katsa settled in a table across from a thin Human with long black hair. His thick beard, oiled and pointed, quivered in the air as he spoke. Val shook her head and the man glared at her, but Katsa seemed to have the conversation well in hand.

"Stop trying to watch them," Ayen admonished. 

" 'At's our job," she growled, as she tried to twist to look over her shoulder again.

"No one is supposed to know we're with them, and you giving your best impression of an owl is a dead giveaway." He shuffled the deck quietly, his eyes never rising from the cards in his hands.

Mathilda turned back around to face him and grumbled under her breath. "Wha're they sayin?"

Ayen smiled as he cut the deck one last time and flipped over the top card. The face of the Rabbit Prince, with his broken sword, stared up at him. "Judging by his expression, he's mad they didn't bring the strongbox."

"Ah told ya tha' was a mistake," she said, shaking her head. "Shows bad faith."

Across the room, Katsa and the merchant seemed more relaxed. They both smiled as they talked. Val was a hard read, with her flat expression and crossed arms. "Everything seems fine."

"Good," she said, finishing her fifth mug.

Ayen shook his head. "I don't like it."

"Ah don' like you," Mathilda said, as she reached for her sixth mug, "an' yet 'ere Ah am."

"He's nodding at everything she's saying." Ayen frowned and looked around the room. "You can never trust a man who's too agreeable." 

"Yer sayin' it's goin' too good?"

"I'm saying, we're not the only ones watching that table," he whispered. 

Mathilda's eyes widened as she looked around. "Shit," Mathilda cursed, turning back to her mug. "Shit! Just saw a man movin' through the kitchen wit' the strongbox. How'd they already find it?"

"Could be we were followed when we buried it," he said calmly. "Could be the thing was always being tracked arcanically. Doesn't matter now." Across the room, a bald, hatchet-faced thug walked up behind Val and Katsa and nodded to the merchant, and the merchant's smile turned in a way that could only be described as 'greasy'. A dozen chairs around the room scuffed across the floor as hidden guards revealed themselves. Va scowled, her hand falling to the pommel of her sword. Katsa was the last in the room to realize her control of the situation had been completely compromised.

"I was right about ye all along," Mathilda spat venomously. "You sol' us out, you worthless shit."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first," Ayen said, as he frowned and looked around. "You probably won't be the last either."

"Ah knew it." The tin mug gave a tiny squeal as it crumpled in her hand. "Ah knew it."

"I always enjoy failing to meet the expectations of others," Ayen grinned, "but this one will be particularly sweet." In one smooth motion, he slipped off the back of his stool and slid to the wall behind him. He lifted a torch out of it's iron casement and leapt up onto the tabletop in front of Mathilda. "Hey!" he shouted, as he reached into his shirt and withdrew a small brown teddy bear. Ayen held the bear out in front of him, with the licks of the torch flame falling just shy of the adorable stuffed animal's feet. Two dozen pairs of eyes turned to him in confusion and annoyance. 

"NOOOOOOO!" screeched the merchant, as tendrils of smoke danced from the singed feet of the bear. "Everyone stop!!!"




Terrible Company Ch. 03



"I have your attention." Ayen lifted the bear and lowered the torch. "Good."

"Wha' in blazes is tha'?" Mathilda squeaked.

"Shut uuup," he whispered under his breath. He raised his voice to address the room as he continued. "We were hoping not to have to resort to this, but it seems like you give us no choice."

"Anything," the merchant said desperately. "Just don't burn it!" Ayen smirked as he lowered the bear again, and the merchant squealed as the brown fur darkened and smoked. "Anything!"

"We'll collect our pay and go, thank you." The merchant looked wildly around the room, and Ayen narrowed his eyes. "You didn't bring it."

"I'm sure we can find something of equal va-stop stop stop!" he shrieked, as the tip of the bear's foot blackened. 

"You were always going to double cross us." The lack of answer was answer enough. Ayen smirked as Mathilda gnashed her teeth below him. Val and Katsa slowly stood up. Everyone else in the room looked to the merchant, questioningly, but the bearded Human was beset with panic. "I think we'll just be going then."

"This isn't over," he whimpered, as Val and Katsa slid toward the front door. Mathilda upended the remaining contents of her hip flask onto the wood plank floor, and Ayen touched the torch down on it as they all sprinted out into the night. 

"I'm not normally one to stare into the mouths of gift horses," Val huffed, "but what the fuck was that?" 

Katsa pulled a vial from her belt, chanting under her breath as she tossed it at the side entrance of the tavern. A scrawny man wielding a dagger ambled out of the kitchen just as the vial erupted against the ground. Scorched by the blast, he screamed and dove back inside as green-tinged flames engulfed the door and half of the side of the building. "I don't care what it is," the Arcanist said with a grim frown.

"It's what was in the strongbox," Ayen grunted, as he leapt onto someone elses horse to make good his third escape of the day. "I was in and out of it before Val got there."

"An' you were jus' gon' keep i' fer yerself?" Mathilda shouted wordlessly as Val grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and hoisted her onto a pony.

"Less talking, more escaping!" Katsa shouted over the roar of flames.

"I might've kept it," he admitted. "I'm not normally one for a whole lot of planning."

"That's a perfectly acceptable battle plan," Val said, straining to keep the irritation from her voice as she mounted the biggest horse of the lot. 

"Thank you," he said, tossing the torch down onto a pile of hay bales. The flames spread quickly through the dry straw. The remaining horses bucked and tossed until the flimsy hitching post yanked clear out of the ground, and they bolted in every direction.

"Why would you stick yer neck ou' for them," Mathilda shouted, as they turned their horses down the road, heading north out of Jonehn.

"Who cares," Val screamed.

"Ah do! Ah wanna hear him say it!"

"I dunno," Ayen shouted back "Normally, I wouldn't have gotten involved. I'd have just let them die and sipped my lager. No offense," he added a second later, tilting his head toward Katsa.

"None taken," she replied.

"Then why?" Mathilda roared, growing more impatient by the second.

"I was moved," he admitted. "Call it fate?"

Mathilda grumbled under her breath and stared angrily up at the heavens. 



Terrible Company Ch. 04



"Vibrato starts in the throat," the Maestro urged, as he slouched in his heavily-cushioned chair. "Use the throat, dear." 

"Nnnnhnnngh!" She took a deep breath through the nose, just like he'd taught her, and relaxed her throat. 

"That's better. Tighten and relax, my dear. Tighten and relaaaax... Yeeees." 

Ivy squawked wordlessly in reply. 

"Now we're going to do some... hnnnnngh... light stretching exercises. That's it. And down! 2! 3! 4! And up... oh goodness yes. And down! 2! 3! 4! And up! That's it! Three more! And down! 2! 3! 4! And up! And down! 2! 3! 4! And up! Last one, my dear! And down! 2! 3! 4! And up!" 

"Whew!" Ivy gasped, blinking brightly when she finally came back up for air. She smiled, as much with her lips as her big bright eyes as she stroked the length of his curved member. "We've almost got my gag reflex gone completely!" 

"I told you it would work. Now," he said, doing his best to adopt a lecturing tone. The curvaceous redhead's eyebrows rose in anticipation of the delivery of his wisdom, and the Maestro reveled in her rapt attention. His face, flush with exertion. "Bard Rule #16, my little dovekin!" 

"Never tune stringed instruments in the rain?" 

The Maestro mitigated his mistake with only the most microscopic of hesitations. "Naturally, my dear." Ivy swelled with pride, putting several buttons in the center of her too-tight blouse in true danger of being fired across the room with enough force to put out an eye. "And Rule #15?" 

"Never start something you don't intend to finish?" 

The Maestro nodded slowly, but Ivy merely blinked in confusion as she continued to pump her hand up and down. "Finish, my dear." Nothing seemed to register behind her blue eyes. He nodded toward her hand, but Ivy merely turned to watch the handjob she was giving with equal confusion. "Me. Finish me." 

"Oh!" she laughed. "Of course, Maestro!" 

"Why don't we work on our deep breathing exercises then." Ivy nodded enthusiastically, pinched her nose as she gulped down air, and swallowed the Maestro's cock whole. The graying man writhed in his chair, counting out the seconds in his booming, sonorous voice. As he crossed seventy his beautiful apprentice's face began to match her dark red hair, and he reluctantly backed off. He immediately began stroking himself, near to his climax as he was, while Ivy fought to regain her breath. "Bard Rule #42," he croaked. 

Bard Rule #42, of which the Maestro was particularly proud, stated that Bards should be drinking constantly. One never knew when adventure might sweep one out into a desert, and one could not count on there being anything to drink along the way. Bard Rule #73, a later addendum, reinforced that since the Bard's most important instrument is the throat, proper and constant hydration is a basic necessity of the job. In addition to frequent consumption of his thick spunk, the Maestro had invoked Bard Rule #42 to get her fall-down drunk on a regular basis as well as to take a potion that turned her into a young man for twenty four hours just for the fun of it. It was, by far, his favorite rule. 

The apprentice nodded vigorously and opened her mouth. The Maestro, however, had recently discovered the joy of facials and deliberately brought himself to full before her lips reached him. Ivy recoiled in surprise, gasping softly and just barely getting her eyes closed in time. Squiggly white strings of semen slathered over her forehead, eyelids, and nose. 

"So sorry," the Maestro wheezed, while not actually being sorry in the least. "Remember the rule, my dear." Without hesitation, Ivy ran her finger along her cheek and put it in her mouth. He bit his lip as he continued to rub out the dregs, watching her devour his seed one finger-load at a time. Sometimes, he was unable to fathom how he had gotten so lucky as to have such an unbelievable apprentice. She wasn't even trying to be dirty or sexy. She didn't have to try; it was innate. Every slow blink of her long eyelashes, every gentle breath blown to help cool his tea; every action was drenched in sex appeal. Absolutely dripping with it. 

"Am I ready to sing now, Maestro?" Until she opened her mouth. 

It wasn't that Ivy's voice was annoying, or even that it lacked a sexual texture. Her natural register was high and clear like a flute chime descending from a lone tree in a field of wildflowers, tinkling in a breeze on a clear Saturday afternoon. Her pillow talk ran the gamut, from smokey and alluring to a level of raunch that had shocked him to his core the first time she was on top. She possessed an alto range in her singing voice which, in short bursts, was entirely pleasing. 

The Maestro nodded, covering his grimace with an encouraging smile. Ivy sprung to her feet and backed across the room while he arched his back and pulled up his pants. "Start with the scales." 

"Dooooo, RaaaaaaaaaaaaY, MEEEEEEeeee..." Extremely short bursts. 

In some cases, he was sure that Ivy was actively making decisions in volume and emphasis. Questionable decisions, true, but with the right attitude an artist could pass off pretty much anything as being part of their 'style'. "No dear," he interrupted. He paused to clear his throat, and sang "Sooooooooooo," his rich tenor echoing perfectly throughout the conservatory. 

"SoooooooooOOo!" She smiled broadly and nodded. "Yes, that was much better." 

It wasn't. It was, if such things can be quantifiably measured, worse. What troubled him the most, though, was her obliviousness. She staggered up and down the scales like an inebriated cat. A very sexy, inebriated, oblivious cat with a fishbone lodged in its throat. The Maestro did his best to present a facade of approval as she stumbled to a finish. "Wonderful, my little songbird." Ivy preened. One of the buttons on her shirt cried out in excruciating pain. "We'll pick back up here in the morning. For now, I'm feeling a bit peckish." 

"Shall I prepare supper?" she asked, with every ounce of her usual zeal. 

"The lamb, I think." 

One of her buttons shrieked as she bowed graciously and exited the room, red curls flouncing in her wake. The Maestro rolled his eyes and fell back into the crushed velvet. Her apprenticeship was entering its third year, and the girl was barely any closer to her mastery of basic scales. Her composition skills were stronger, he allowed as he popped an olive into the air, but not stronger e-. 

*** 

"I can't do it any more," wheezed the second button, as Ivy bounced into the kitchen. "I just can't!" 

"Yes you can," shouted the first. "You have to!" 

"It's too much!" It shook its head, sagging. "Way too much!" 

"You can't give up!" 

"I can't take the constant pain!" 

"There's no one else," the first button pled. "If you go we all go, and that's it. She's exposed." 

"I don't care anymore," it whined. 

"Yes you do. You care too much!" 

"I don't." 

"Don't you see? Only someone who cared as much as you could take being where you are. Any normal button would have popped off years ago, but you hung in there." The second button whimpered and shook its head, but the first one kept on. "Remember that month when she got really into chocolate cake? We were all ready to throw in the towel, but you wouldn't let us. You gave that speech, remember? The one about holding the line?" 

"Yeah," the second one sobbed. 

"You're the strongest of us all, my friend. If you can't do it, no one can." 

"You don't understand! The pressure, it's... it's insane!" 

"You're right," the first button said solemnly. "I don't understand. It's much looser up here, and this is all I can handle. I'm not as tough as you are. But she needs you, buddy. Now more than ever." 

The second button nodded and took a few deep breaths to gird its loins. Dinner loomed. 

*** 

Ivy cooed as she dropped the skinned potatoes into the pot. "Plop, plop, plop!" She squinted and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "Plahp," she said, sounding it out. "Plawp." She dropped another potato and listened closely. Ivy was extremely vigilant in her quest for inspiration. The Maestro had said it would come at her 'from the most unlikely places', just after she found out about the glory hole in the bathroom of her chambers. He also said it would come 'when she least expected it,' two minutes later. He was right. She hadn't thought he had it in him to be ready again so soon, but there it was, throbbing and hard and jabbing her in the cheek. The Maestro was truly an extraordinary teacher and she counted herself blessed to study at his feet, which he was also always making her do things to. Do things with. Do things... 

Ivy frowned. Participles were not her strong suit. 

Her concentration was broken a moment later when the Maestro staggered into the kitchen, purple-faced and clutching his throat. Ivy tilted her head in confusion as he worked his lips without sound. "Are we playing a game?" He shook his head, but she talked right over him. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Are we going to work on my Miming skills?!" 

He grabbed at his throat pleadingly. "You want me to work on my singing voice?" she asked. 

He waved his hands and shook his head. "You have nothing more you can teach me?!" 

He frantically pointed to his chest, and then at her. "The magic was inside me all along?!" 

She gasped and leapt up into the air. Several buttons on her shirt groaned in fear as gravity brought her back down. "Oh Maestro, this is amazing," she shouted, as she rushed down the hall to her chambers. "I knew I was making progress, but I had no idea I was so close to..." She gasped, one hand pressed to her mouth while the other covered her fluttering heart. "Does this mean that I've attained the rank of Journeyman?" The Maestro gurgled and fell forward onto the cool stone floor. "No, you're right. I haven't. I'd know it," she announced confidently. 

"I'm all packed and ready to go," she called over her shoulder, as she dragged the knapsack she'd prepared the year prior out from under her bed. "I even have a list of towns and taverns I think will be bene-OH!" She gasped as she came into the kitchen, staring down at her teacher's barely-conscious body lying spread eagle beside the counter. "You're floored? By me? That's..." She bit her lip and smiled. "Maestro, you have no idea how flattering that is. Thank you. Thank you for everything." She knelt down and kissed the back of his head before striding confidently toward the Receiving Hall, admiring the incredible lengths he went to for his art. She paused, her hand on the front door, and looked back over her shoulder with a perplexed look. 

"Oh! 'To which you were always making me do things'!" Ivy nodded, proud that she'd figured it out on her own, and strode out into the muddy streets. 

*** 

"Please?" 

"It's becoming a habit." Val shook her head and sighed. "I really don't wanna get back into doing that again." 

"We need you!" 

"You need me." 

"Oh please," Katsa smirked. 

"Admit it," the big Orc sneered. "You only want me to stay on cus you can't get enough of this." She leaned back and caressed her crotch through her leather breeches. 

Katsa's eyes bulged as she looked over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone in the alley, and her cheeks were inflamed when she looked back. "First of all," she gritted, "haven't you gotten me to admit that enough yet? Yes. It's fucking amazing. Does that make you happy?" Val's smile seemed indicative of exactly that. "That's not why though. Mathilda keeps going on ab-" 

"I don't give one gods-damned shit what her God says. I'm not destined to be your meat shield, alright? I came here," she said, pointing at the ground, "because I had my own fucking business." 

"And you can still do that! I'm sure everyone else will be on board to help you look for... whatever it is." 

"From now on," Val growled, jabbing her index finger into the palm of her other hand, "we do my business first. I missed out on a lead in Jonehn, and now I can't go back there." 

"Yes!" Katsa placated. "Of course. It totally takes priority." 

"That's on you, Kat." 

Katsa blanched as she recoiled. "I didn't start that fire." 

"You're the one that dragged me into it in the first place." 

"Aww," Katsa smirked, regaining some of her composure. "You and I both know you stuck around because you couldn't get enough of this." She grinned slyly up at Val, grinding her crotch against the big Orc's thigh. "Oh Kat, it's so tight!" she crooned. 

"Two conditions," the taller woman said flatly. "One, I'm fucking the shit out of you when we make camp tonight." 

"Done." Katsa smiled coyly. 

"Two, Yer not gonna get all weepy when I go after the Elf." 

"Done." 

"Just like that?" the Orc snorted 

Katsa shrugged slightly. "Always wanted to try it with a Dwarf. I mean, it can't be as good as everyone says, can it?" 

'It can," Val smirked, and then sighed a moment later. "Fucking harpies. Where did you find this job?" They turned and headed back inside the tavern where they were going to meet Mathilda and Ayen. 

"Client approached me just after we split up in town." 

"Those gloves are like a beacon, yanno." The Arcanist touched her forearms reflexively, pulling her fingerless black gloves with blue trim even tighter. Val winced as they walked inside and headed toward their table. "Where's the Elf?" 

" 'e ain't come down ye'," Mathilda droned distractedly, as she stared across the room. 

"Aren't you gonna go heal whoever is dying over there?" Katsa asked as she sat down. 

" 'at's not pain. She's singin'." 

Val and Katsa turned and looked. A buxom redhead swayed atop a table, keeping irregular time with the heel of her boot and caterwauling so far off key that none of them were quite sure what the original key should have been. "Are you sure?" Val asked. 

"Aye. Recognized a lyric ten minutes ago. Ah'm not sure what's sadder; how bad she is, or that she dunno how bad she is?" 

Ayen appeared, laughing as he sat down. "When she looks like that, she can sing however she wants." All three women turned to stare coldly at him, and he put up his hands. "Hey, I didn't hire her." 

"Why're you in such a good mood, lass?" Mathilda asked sourly. 

He smiled dismissively and leaned across the table to whisper. "Did you know that I had butt cheeks of such sculpted perfection that they would have driven Adonis himself to jealousy, and that my cock is an indomitable pillar of flesh?!" The women's cold stares hardened, and Ayen chuckled as he leaned back. "There's this old bard over there who will narrate you having sex for a bit of silver. It was awesome! Made it feel real classy." 

Val growled. "I'm gonna wring his neck if I see him." 

"He's not such a bad guy! I think he just likes to watch, if you know what I mean." Val glared at him and his grin widened. "And what I mean is that he jerks off while watching people ha-" 

"Rhogan take ye! We knew what ye meant!" Mathilda shook her head and turned her attention back to the singer. " 'at's awful," she mumbled. 

Katsa cringed. "Well, quit paying attention to her and focus." 

"I cannae look away, an' I... I dunno why!" 

"Fine," she grumbled, and turned to Ayen and Val. "We got a job." 

"Yay!" 

"Yay?" Val growled, still not looking pleased. "You don't even know what the job is." 

"Indomitable pillar of flesh!" he repeated. "You could tell me the Necromancers are about to descend on this rat heap, and I'd still die with a smile on my face." Katsa rolled her eyes. 

"Now they're throwin' lettuce at her," Mathilda mumbled, leaning to the side for a better view. 

Katsa sighed in relief as the awful keening desisted. "At least that got her to stop." 

"Ah don' think she got tha message." Mathilda shook her head slowly. "She's thankin' tha lad tha threw it. He di'nt like tha'... And now she's... Yeah, she's eatin' tha lettuce." 

The Arcanist winced as she fought on. "We're going after a nest of harpies." 

"Yay!" 

"Ugh... it's like watchin' a great red rabbit." 

"They're the ones that sing songs, right? Like sirens?" 

"So much nibblin'..." 

Val nodded. "Vicious, territorial little fuckers." 

"Not where Ah come from," Mathilda mumbled. 

"Wh-... Not rabbits, Harpies, you little-." 

"Ahhh Fuck." Mathilda took a swig from her bottle, and Katsa twisted to follow the Dwarf's eyes. Across the room, a lanky patron had grabbed the singer and dragged her into his lap. The redhead was unsuccessfully trying to escape his grasp, and she laughed nervously as another one reached under her arm to grope her. The Arcanist's chair squeaked as it slid back across the floor, but Val was already halfway across the room. 

*** 

"I didn't know heads bounced like that," Katsa said, breaking a long silence as they walked down the road. 

"Don't take this the wrong way," Val replied, "but Human heads bounce the best." 

"Really?" Katsa scratched her chin in thought. 

"Near as I can tell," the Orc waxed, "it's got something to do with the thickness of the skull. Human's have juuuust the right amount to have a little give before they bounce back." 

"There's a blowjob joke in there somewhere," Ayen mused. 

"Ah'll bet tha' joke is hiding under a table. Seems like tha' kinda joke." Mathilda snapped her fingers and turned. "Issat why you ducked under there at the first sign o' action?" 

"This is the moneymaker," he defended, gesturing toward his face. 

"You could do with a scar or two," Mathilda snarled. 

"Who needs a scar when I have an indomitable pillar of flesh?" Mathilda shook her head and took a long swig of her twice-blessed bock. 

"So," Katsa prodded, "you've beheaded a lot of people then?" 

Mathilda scoffed and peered up at the big Orc. "Wha', does she no' know?" 

"Not know what?" Katsa demanded. Val stared forward stonily. 

Mathilda chuckled and shook her head. "S'not mine ta tell, lass." 

"Not know what?" 

"Not that this isn't thrilling," Ayen interrupted, "but we're being followed." 

"Some more'o tha' 'eadless fellow's mates?" They all continued walking forward smoothly, but their hands inched towards pommels, handles, and vials. 

"Even better." 

Val sniffed. Katsa turned and caught a flash of red as it darted behind a tree. "Awwwww," they groaned, in unison. 

*** 

"Veton korshki inata vosh ol kaaj." Katsa frowned as she ground the pebbles with her pestle. "In'Tosh e nopari. In'Tosh e nopari." A small kettle hung over the campfire, giving off a lazy smoke stream. She tilted the bowl and squinted at the powder. "Tosh e nokana, eh pari soll." 

Val opened her mouth, ready to ask another question, but it died on her tongue as the Arcanist glared at her. Mathilda was passed out against a tree at the edge of the firelight, which really left only one option. Val grabbed her whetstone and sword, and dropped down next to Ayen. "What's she doing now?" 

"She's behind me," he mumbled, without looking up from the piece of wood he was delicately shaving. "She thinks she's spying on us. It's adorable." 

Val glanced over her shoulder. She could just make out a pair of eyes reflecting the firelight. "I'll tell her to fuck off in the morning." 

"No you won't." 

"Why not? Do you want to do it?" 

"You have me all wrong," Ayen chuckled. "A delicate thing like her needs to be cared for, and watched over. She's coming with us." 




Terrible Company Ch. 04



"You've got balls, I'll give you that." 

"I've got more than that," he smirked, "if you care to find out." 

Val scoffed dismissively. "I guarantee you'll be outnumbered three to one." 

"It'll be two to two." 

"What? Who's gonna side with you?" 

"You are," he said simply. 

"Fuuuuck thaaaat!" 

Katsa hissed fiercely. Ayen and Val both winced, and resumed at lower volumes. "She ain't comin' with us." 

He smiled. "You owe me." 

"Bullshit." 

"I saved your life." 

"You di-" But he had, and Val knew it. "This is how you wanna call in that debt?" 

"Yup." He patiently etched at the tiny piece of wood. 10 feet behind them, the interloper sneezed. "Bless you," Ayen whispered over his shoulder. 

"Thank you," the redhead whispered back. Val's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. 

"See?" Ayen giggled. "Isn't that adorable?" 

"You gotta be kidding me!" Val wheezed in outrage. "How is she gonna help us?" 

"I didn't say she was gonna help, just that she's coming. I have a good feeling about her." He put down the bit of wood and his knife, and turned to face the Orc. "You saw her, right?" Val rolled her eyes. "Tell me you weren't thinking how badly you want what's between her thighs." 

"You know she can probably hear you, right?" 

"No I can't," the redhead whispered, "but if I could, I still wouldn't know what you'd want with the bush that's down there." Val and Ayen stared at each other, wide eyed and silent, as she shuffled amongst the branches and leaves. "It's pretty overgrown." 

"Fine," the orc hissed, "but I'm not happy about it." 

*** 

Katsa frowned and shook her head. Four pairs of compound, carefully wrapped in a thin sheet of inscribed wax paper. Five hours effort. 

"What's wrong?" the Orc asked as she crouched down. 

The Arcanist clucked her tongue. "I'm... not sure they're going to function properly. Wouldn't put it better than 60%." 

Val picked one up off the fine cloth and inspected it. "If it fails, is it gonna explode in my ear?" 

"What? No." She frowned pensively. "I mean, probably not. The Drystwood powder was a bit... wet, and I didn't have time to dry it out. Plus I had to use substitutes for three other lesser ingredients. I don't know how that man sleeps at night calling himself an apothecary." 

"The gall," Val whispered droll-ly. She pinched one eye shut and gave the plug another look before setting it back down. 

"It... uh..." Katsa pinched her nose, trying to think through all the alterations she'd made to the original recipe. "Worst case scenario, it doesn't block the high registers." 

"So... some but not all of the effects." 

"Sure," the blonde said tiredly. 

"Well it only needs to hold them back long enough to plant some steel in them," she said, pointing with her thumb at the handle of her freshly-sharpened sword sticking out from over her shoulder. "Think it'll last that long?" 

"Ugh, probably?" Katsa's shoulders slumped. 

"Don't be glum, chum!" 

The Arcanist's eyes fell down and away. "I've got a lot on my mind." 

"Well, I've got a great way to clear your head." The raven-haired Orc grinned playfully, reaching over and massaging Katsa's lower back. "And by clear your head, I'm definitely talking about fucking your brains out. You know, in case that wasn't 100% clear." 

"That doesn't sound awful," she admitted, frown cracking for the first time in hours. 

"Arousal achieved!" Val chuckled and went on in a whisper. "There's a pond just down the way, and I got some soap in town. Maybe you could drop it," she added, with a playful shrug. The Arcanist sighed, remembering a time when she bathed daily, and nodded. Val grinned and bounded to her feet, Katsa only a moment behind. Ayen chuckled as they hurried off into the dark. 

Val led the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes and weapons as she shimmied from her pants, sauntering nude into the clearing. Katsa let her eyes trail along the orc's thighs, lingering appreciatively on the bigger woman's toned ass. A gentle shudder rolled through the Arcanist. The pond was gorgeous; a small rocky pool surrounded by a grove of trees. The night lights danced across the water's surface as Val gently slid into the water, looking over her shoulder to beckon Katsa in. 

"What are you waiting for?" Val laughed, as she swam out into the middle. "It's wonderful in here." 

"I didn't realize it was so close. Aren't you worried about..." She tilted her head, gesturing back toward the campfire while the green-skinned woman tread in place. 

"Him? I wouldn't say I'm counting on it, but I'm certainly hopeful that he'll come down." 

"Not just him," Katsa whined. 

"Fuck it," she laughed, her voice carrying loud over the water. "They can all come." 

The Human timidly squirmed out of her clothes, leaving them in a tidy unfolded pile, and waded into the water with her arms crossed over her small breasts. The cool water felt wonderful against her skin, but Katsa didn't begin to relax until she was fully submerged. She dipped her head under the water when she reached a point where her toes no longer touched the loamy bottom, and Val was grinning widely when she popped back up. "Those are nice," Val drawled, running the purple soap around and under her own breast. "Can't believe I'm only just seein' yer tits for the first time." 

Katsa smiled tightly. "Considering how many times you didn't even let me get my pants all the way off? I can." Val chuckled and tossed the bar, which the Arcanist awkwardly flailed to catch. "Do you want me to get your back?" 

"If you wouldn't mind." 

Her eyes drank in the Orc's upper body. The tough green skin pebbled in the cool air. Water, clinging to the many scars, shone in the light of the waning moon overhead. This was Katsa's first chance to see Val too, as the Orc rarely did more than unlace her breeches before trying to stick it somewhere. "Do you all have one?" she murmured, not realizing that the 'it' in her inner monologue did not constitute context. 

Val raised an eyebrow and looked back over her shoulder. "What?" 

Katsa flustered and swirled the bar along the big woman's back, but her fingertips and eyes continued to trace along the numerous imperfections in the skin. "I-uh..." She swallowed hard. "Are.. all orcs..." Her mind reeled. "...becocked?"  

"Becocked?" 

"It'saperfectlygoodword," Katsa muttered, frantically rubbing the bar of soap in circles when she realized she'd stopped completely. 

"It does have a touch of class," Val admitted smugly. "And yes. The basic package, free with every purchase. It's not actually a cock though... more of an, uh, external vagina." 

"How... how does the..." 

"He sticks it inside, just like yours." 

"Wouldn't that hurt? 

Val shrugged. "Wouldn't know." 

"I honestly never thought I'd get to see one." 

"Really?" Katsa made a small noise in her throat, and Val turned. "It's not like we're on the endangered list." 

Katsa held out the soap, but paused. "It wasn't my plan to be out doing... this." 

"Yeah, not a lot of Arcanists go for the rough and-what in the hells?!" 

Katsa squeaked, and tried to turn back to face the orc, but Val grabbed her shoulders and spun her away. "That's a tattoo!" 

The Arcanist squirmed and tried to wiggle free. "It's not a big deal, ok?" 

"It's kind of a big deal! Where did you even find someone to do this?" Val's eyes widened, trying to take in what she was seeing. The entirety of Katsa's upper back, from the edges of her shoulder blades to the very base of her neck, on down to the just below the ribcage, was a mass of taboo ink; all dark swirls and curves. At first, it looked like a plate of spaghetti. She blinked, and almost thought she could read words in it. She blinked again and saw sweeping lines in patterns that repeated infinitely, microscopically. Val shook her head, and saw clouds. Rushing wind. 

"I got drunk on a trade ship, alright?" 

"What even is this? Like, what am I looking at?" 

"I don't know. I forget it's there most days." 

"How drunk did you get?" 

"It was... days," Katsa said, slumping. "The drinking helped with the swaying though." 

"Fuck." Val scratched at a section, surprise evident in her expression at feeling soft skin beneath her nail. "Do you know how big it is?" 

"I've seen it in mirrors," Katsa muttered. 

"Look at you... surprising me." 

The lithe blonde sighed, feeling the bar pressed into her back. Val had a firm hand, and the rounded nub felt incredibly good. She leaned into it, groaning as knotted muscles began to loosen. So many nights sleeping in fields and on gnarled roots, trying in vain to get comfortable. So many months on the run. It had all taken it's toll. The soap, scented with parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, had an immediate and soothing effect on her. 

But as she leaned back even further, she felt something else pressing against her. Val's shaft, thickening rapidly, was starting to peek up out of water. The men Katsa had been with all ranged between 6 and 8 inches and had more pronounced mushroom shapes. The very tip, Val's clit, was somewhat smaller, proportionately, than a man's head. The shaft itself was just slightly longer than her previous best, although Val was significantly girthier. The way it crossfaded from dark green at the base to a bright pink color at the end was stunningly beautiful by her reckoning. 

Val growled into her ear, bringing her back from her reverie. That and the gleam of Val's jagged smile in her peripheral vision put a shiver in Katsa's spine. The water splashed around her as Val's hands shot beneath the surface and grabbed her legs just above the knees. She folded in on herself, her feet flailing in the cool air, her back tight against the big Orc. Val's breasts, driven into her shoulders. Her hands flailed for something to hold on to, finding Val's biceps. 

"Nono," Katsa gasped. The hardened flesh pushed up between her petals. She squeaked as Val moved her around with ease. The flutter in her stomach increased. The knots loosened in anticipation. Release would be sweet. She looked down to see the pink nub, pushing up just past her own clit, swollen and ready for her. 

"Time to make good on your word, toy." 

"No," Katsa wheezed. "I'm not ready yet!" 

"Too bad." 

There is power in words. Katsa had always known that. Her tutors as an Arcanist-in-training had elucidated thousands upon thousands of ways that words could be put together to produce an effect far greater than the sum of their letters. Katsa herself had often pondered on unknown and unknowable things. While meditating once, she had gazed upon creatures so terrible and vast that her understanding of her place in the universe had been forever changed. She often thought back to what she could remember of that vision and was filled with a kind of dread; not because of the immense scale of the beings, but because they had no names. That made them alien. There were no words for them. 

Katsa had narrowed her efforts in the wake of that vision, systematically categorizing and processing knowledge in pursuit of her new goal. Always, though, it came back to words. Words helped her understand. Words made things comprehensible. All she had to do was find the right words, and she could encapsulate the most complex concepts. Make them relatable. 

What Katsa often forgot, and had never even realized before meeting Val, was the degree to which words held power over her. Just two words, the right two words, at the right time, and she was clay. Dripping wet clay in powerful hands. Val held her like a doll, manipulated her like a plaything, but with those two words, she truly was. 

Val lifted her, and Katsa groaned loudly as she dropped smoothly onto the rigid pole. "Hnnnnnnfuuuuuuuuuuck," she cried, gritting her teeth as her walls were stretched. 

"How are you still so gods-damned tight," Val hissed. Katsa's jaw clenched, feeling those last, widest ridges pushing insistently at her fuckhole. She could take them. She would. She just needed to loose- 

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" she cried, as Val gave a hard thrust. Her cunt howled in rapturous agony. 

"That's right," Val whispered in her ear. "Scream. Make sure they can all hear you. Make sure they know what I do to you." Val hissed as the Arcanist's nails dug into her biceps. 

"UUuuuuuuuuuunnnngh thatfeelssofuckinggood," she whimpered. Her eyes rolled up behind her lids. Her hips wailed, filled beyond what nature had intended for them. Val bit into the back of her neck, and her spine electrified. "What are -fuck- you -fuck- waiting for -fuuuuuuck!" Even by the standard of her handful of vigorous fuckings at Val's hands, Katsa knew she was panting harder than usual. Val lifted her up and dropped her again, emptying and filling her cocksleeve in rapid succession, and she mewled pitifully. 

"I was waiting," Val said, taking three quick steps through the water, "until you got me wet enough..." Katsa squealed as the hands holding her let go, and she fell forward unexpected. She splashed down on her hands and knees in water just deep enough to be touching the tips of her puffy little nipples. "... for this." 

The Arcanist was still getting her bearings when she heard the Orc settle down into the water behind her. The slick tip pushed between lips slathered in lust, but when it came to rest against her anus, she froze. "No." It came out like the faded memory of a whisper. 

"Oh yes." Hands firmly gripped her hips. 

"You can't-" 

"I can." The shaft pushed harder. 

"It won't-" 

"It will." 

Katsa screamed as the big Orc pushed inside her. Split her wide. The opening salvo was hard and fast, taking her breath away, and her eyes bulged. "It'stoomuch! it'stoomuchit'stoomuch," she wheezed. 

Val curled over her, green breasts pressed against her tattooed back. "Too bad," she growled. 

It wasn't enough. No matter how much those words did to her, no matter how much Val's attitude turned her on, it wasn't enough. It didn't change the fact that she was not built to take the Orc's girth there. Worse, though, was that Val was right. Despite the fact that she couldn't, she still would. Val would make it fit. 

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" Val snarled as she pushed farther. "Fuck!" Katsa's fingers dug into the soft bottom, flitting through the silt to find something to squeeze. Something else to focus on. 

It was too much. Her nervous system fried trying to comprehend what was happening to her, and went into overload. Her entire body lit up like one big, raw nerve ending. Katsa screamed; a ragged, throat-shredding howl. 

"You know I love it when you scream," Val hissed. "Fuck! I didn't even know it was possible, but this hole is even tighter! Gods!" Katsa screamed again as Val pulled back; it felt like her insides were trying to leave with the shaft. "Remember, toy. You agreed to this." 

Katsa tried to say no, tried to protest. Her stomach felt cramped and swollen. Her internal organs, surely rearranged. No amount of moving her legs helped. No adjustment brought relief. There was nothing else beyond the enormity of it. Her mouth hung open, shrieking in silence as the big Orc ramped up significantly behind her. This went beyond the rapturous agony of before. 

"Fuck!" Val cried. "Let's see if we can't wake up the dwarf. Come on, human, scream." She reached back and delivered a thunderous slap to the Arcanists rump. The pale skin reddened visibly, quickly, but Katsa's response was almost inaudible. Her choked gasping was a pin drop against their smacking thighs. 

The longer she went, the more fluid Val's shaft leaked. The dull thud gave way to a wet squelching, and the wetter she got, the harder and faster Val went. She bent over the small human, pinning Katsa in place with an arm across the chest, and fucked her furiously. Rabidly. Her thick shaft, pistoning in and out of the repurposed asshole. 

Katsa's eyes were wild, darting and nearly-all white. Distantly, she was aware of an orgasm building, but it was... different. Not like the dawn, which graces the early morning sky with a beautiful light show before it's warm and welcomed arrival. No. This was like a tidal wave still just beyond the horizon. The waters receded in deference, and the ground trembled to herald its coming. 

Katsa wailed. 

It wasn't beyond the horizon; it was the horizon, and it was far closer than she'd thought. Moved faster than she thought possible. Her voice, a vicious shade of itself, ripped out of her as the orgasm made landfall. There was no pleasure in it, no release. The intensity of the contractions required a scale beyond her ken to measure. Her body was merely a conduit, an imperfect vessel for so immense a sensation. 

"Fuck, Kat!" Val hammered away at her, but the strong green hands were the only things holding her up. Her mind, disconnected. Her body, spent. 

"Fuck! FUCK!" Val roared into the night sky, ramping up to a thunderous finish. Her battle cry tore through the trees, disturbing a flock of birds from their sleep and scattering them into the inky black. Scalding cum erupted from the engorged shaft, burrowing deep into Katsa's ravaged cavity. She hilted inside the Arcanist and rode through the aftershocks. Aftershocks from both sides. Val was never one to take it for granted when she could fit the entire shaft inside someone else, and soaked up every second of the incredible feel of it. Soaked up the heat of it. The little blonde was like a furnace around her. 

"Gods, I needed that," Val said, panting slightly. She flexed her fingers as she let go of Katsa and the Arcanist tumbled to her side, gasping for breath in the shallow water. 

*** 

Katsa and the rest of camp were torn from their sleep by Mathilda's haggard screams in the first hour after dawn. "We're surrounded!!" she shouted, scrambling on all fours through the dirt. "Out tha steel!" 

Val was on her feet in seconds, sword in hand and head swiveling. Katsa rolled onto her stomach and reached for her bag, quickly sorting through a handful of vials by touch. Ayen disappeared immediately. 

"I don't see anything," Val whispered. 

"Tha bloody trees!!" 

"The... Trees?!" 

"Aye," Mathilda snarled, hefting her heavy-headed hammer and staring down a gnarled oak. "Ah'd never fall asleep under onnafem. This'n musta crept up on me." 

"You absolutely fell asleep underneath it," Katsa yelled, as she settled on her knees. Her head was pounding. 

"Impossible!" 

"You sang to it," Val said flatly, re-sheathing her sword. "You sang a duet with it. You said it shouldn't branch out from it's day job." 

"Mathilda," Katsa grumbled, "we walked through this forest for like 6 hours!" 

"Ah had ma' wits abou' me then!" The tiny woman was still on point, hackles raised, all of her senses fixated on the ancient wood. "They'll strangle the life out of ye in yer sleep!" 

Katsa blinked. "You know they can't mov-" 

"Can't move?" she shouted wildly. "Or creep so slow ye never see 'em coming!" 

"That's ludicrous!" 

"Always reachin' through tunnel walls wit' their roots, tryin' ta bring the mountain down on yer 'ead. Vile things!" 

"The redhead is fine!" Ayen shouted, as he leapt back out from behind a tree. "I was just... protecting her." 

"How noble of you," Val snarked. 




Terrible Company Ch. 04



"No, that's good," Katsa said, feeling better to have found a suitable target for her ire. "Means she'll be fine to march right back where she came from." 

"I thought this was a democracy," he replied too smoothly. Katsa narrowed her eyes. "We're not gonna put this to a vote?" 

"We 'avent dealt with-" 

"Shut up about the trees!" Katsa closed her eyes and counted slowly in her head. When she continued, her tone was much more calm. "Fine. We'll vote. I vote no." 

"I say she comes," Ayen grinned. 

"I say I come too," said the redhead from her hiding spot in the tree. 

"You're not in the group," Katsa barked. "You don't get a vote." 

The limbs on the tree shook slightly. "Half of a vote?" 

"No!" 

"Two-thirds." 

"That's... that's more than half." 

"Three-fifths!" 

"No," Katsa issued. "You don't get a vote, and you don't get to come." 

Val glared sideways at the Half Elf. "Actually, Kat..." 

Katsa stared, dumbfounded. It had been a given in her mind that no one wanted the redhead but Ayen, but as she turned and looked at Mathilda, her stomach lurched. The Dwarf was twisting her toe in the dirt. 

"Ah was gonna tell ye when Ah woke, bu' the tree distracted me." 

The Arcanists jaw fell. "I..." No amount of counting would correct this. She could feel the heat radiating off of her. 

*** 

"Hi!." Katsa stared daggers over her shoulder, but the bubbly redhead was unphased. "The others thought someone should come up and see if you're doing ok." 

"And they sent you?" Katsa asked acidly. The curvier woman was about a head taller than her, and Katsa was in no mood to swallow even the tiniest bit of jealousy. 

"We played Rock Paper Scissors to see who would do it," she said, frowning slightly. "I've never heard of Rock beating Paper, buuuut I guess that makes sense if you think about it. I'm Ivy, by the way." 

"I'm annoyed." 

Ivy frowned. "They... said your name was Katsa..." 

Katsa pinched the bridge of her nose and squinted very, very hard. "What do you want?" 

"Oh! I just came up to introduce myself!" 

"That being accomplished, you can now-" 

"They told me you were a mage?" 

Ivy's smile was extremely sincere, almost childlike. Katsa found it difficult to sustain her anger in the face of such honesty; difficult, but not impossible. "I'm an Arcanist," she snapped, verbally capitalizing the title. 

The redhead nodded sagely. "I've always wondered how much that has in common with bardic magic." 

Katsa scoffed. "There's no such thing as bardic magic." 

"Of course there is," Ivy said patiently. 

"Wait, you're a bard?" 

"Mmmhmm!" 

"Val is going to be thrilled to hear that," she snorted. 

"I don't think so." Ivy frowned. "Or at least, she didn't show any of the traditional signs of an Orc in bliss." She held out her hand and counted off on her fingers, adopting a lecturing tone. "No bulged pants, no flushing of the cheeks... although she did try to punch the Half-Elf. Roughhousing can be a sign of contentment." She took a deep breath, looking up thoughtfully. "If anything, though, I'd have guessed she was livid." 

"What tipped you off?" 

"It was when she tried to punch the Half-Elf," Ivy said definitively. "Violence plays a complex role in Orcish culture. Depending on the setting and the phases on the moon, that kind of aggressiveness could have territorial, hierarchical, sexual, or even comedic undertones. In some tribes, that's just how they say 'hello'." Katsa was so busy staring wide-eyed at the Bard that she nearly tripped on an exposed root. "Of course, none of that applies. Val was raised among humans." 

"She was?" 

"You didn't know?" Ivy arched an eyebrow at her and frowned. "The signs are all there." 

"I guess I... wasn't looking for them?" 

Ivy gave her a confused look. "Maybe the things I've heard about Arcanist training were wrong." 

Katsa's shock overrode her ability to respond. She floundered for several seconds, lips opening and closing, before finally delivering "There's no such thing as bardic magic!" 

"It's just as real as your scribbly magic," Ivy replied, nonplussed. 

"Scribbly magic?!?" 

Katsa's rage fell on deaf ears. Ivy was staring off at a lone peak in the distance, her head tilted. "They told me we're going after a nest of Harpies?" 

"You-" The Arcanist bit down hard on her tongue. "Yes. My client needs a rare component, and he hired us." 

"I assume you all have Harridan beeswax earplugs?" 

Katsa blinked and drifted to a stop. "How do you know what that is?" 

"Everyone knows beeswax from Harridan Island blocks the harpy call the best," she giggled. "Are you sure you're an Arcanist?" 

"Yes I'm sure!" The thin blonde took a deep breath and blew it back out. "You know what... why don't we play the quiet game for a little while." 

"The Maestro and I used to play that game all the time!" Ivy preened confidently. "I bet I'll win. Ready? Go!" 

*** 

Katsa wiped the sweat from her brow as she crept up to the cliff's ledge. The climb up the hill side had been tougher than it looked from farther away. She waved the others forward and stared. The north side of the hill fell away precipitously, making for a fairly terrifying drop-off right in front of her. Halfway down, a few scraggly trees jutting out from the rock face were home to the only known harpy nest within a hundred miles. The Arcanist pointed there as the others gathered. "Ok-" 

"I win!" Ivy shouted triumphantly, throwing her arms straight up in the air. Katsa froze, trembling, and turned to glare at Val and Mathilda, who were studiously looking anywhere but back at her. 

"Anyway," the Arcanist continued, coldly, "that's our target." Everyone got down, on knees and bellies, and peered over the ledge. 

"Suicide," Mathilda hissed. 

Val shook her head. "Do you have a magic carpet in that pack of yours to get us down there?" 

"There's a path," Katsa whispered, pointing. A tiny patch of green ran along the cliff face beneath them and to their left out of view. "It's narrow, but it's navigable. Or so I'm told," she added after swallowing. 

"Still suicide," Ayen said, shaking his head. "Even I couldn't sneak up on that." 

"What harm're they doin' anyway?" Mathilda tilted her head, watching the four harpies groom. "Ah mean, Ah know harpies're an ornery lot, but who're they botherin' way out 'ere?" 

"We weren't hired to kill them. We just need an egg." 

"Well why didn't you say so!" Ayen rolled onto his hip and reached deep into one of the inner pockets of his vest. "Here!" There, in the palm of his hand, was a medium-sized, pale blue egg with yellowish-white speckling. 

"Is that a harpy egg?" Katsa spun and stared at the nest. She could barely make out an egg in the corner, but it was too far away to be sure. 

"What does the client want it for?" 

"For... components," Katsa mumbled, squinting. 

"So he's not gonna wait for it to hatch and raise a little harpy?" 

"No." 

"Then it's definitely a harpy egg." 

"How were you keeping an egg in your vest?" Ivy asked, peering curiously. 

"Soft hands," Ayen whispered, waving the tips of his fingers and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

"Yeah, but-" 

"Shhhhhh." He laid a finger across the redhead's lips. 

"But-" 

"Shhhhhhhhhh." 

"He'll know the difference," Katsa grumbled. Ayen shrugged noncommittally and tucked the egg back into his vest. The Arcanist reached back into her pack and pulled out a tightly-rolled cloth. "I only made enough for the four of us, so Ivy, you'll have to hang back." 

"Don't worry," Ivy said cheerfully. "I brought my own!" Her tongue dangled from the side of her mouth as she patted down her pockets, and she visibly brightened as she reached into the back pocket of her breeches. "Like my teacher used to say: A Bard is always prepared! Whether it's a knife in the dark, or a cock in the throat!" 

Katsa was the first to return to herself after a long moment of shocked silence. "Uh... right... what? Don't-... why are you putting them in?" 

"WHAT?" Ivy asked, blinking in confusion. 

"Nevermind," the Arcanist grit her teeth, pinching the bridge of her nose. "There's four of them down there. I could try taking one out quick to draw the others up here, but the only spells I have ready run the risk of damaging the nest." 

"Best to try to get some of them to come up here on their own," Val said, peeking over the ledge again. "Divide and conquer. What do we have that could attract harpies, and I swear to all the gods if you mention your godsdamned cock again today I'll cut it off." 

Ayen held up his hands defensively, "All I'm saying is that I don't see any males down there, and they're probably lonely." 

"You di'n't have a plan fer this part?" Mathilda said, her brow furrowed. 

"The details on the location were sketchy," Katsa defended. "I thought we'd do better once we saw the layout." 

Mathilda scoffed. "Ok. We saw it. It's a deathtrap. Now what?" 

"I CAN'T HEAR WHAT YOU GUYS ARE SAYING," Ivy shook her head. 

"Nobody is talking to you," Katsa snarled. "Now please! Can we all just put our heads together on this?" 

"WHAT?" 

"Ah second the 'send in tha elf' plan." 

"No." 

"We play it pretty fast and loose wit' the word 'democracy', eh?" 

"There's only two of them now," Val hissed. "Looked like the other two flew off to hunt or something." 

"Go get 'em then, Val." Ayen made little jabbing motions with his empty hands. "We'll cover you from here." 

"I could take both of them out if I threw you over the edge." 

"That's three for 'send in tha elf'. In case yer countin'." 

"I think," Ayen whispered archly, "we have a fundamental difference of opinion on the definition of 'send in'." 

"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS." 

"THEN TAKE OUT YOUR DAMN EAR PLUGS!" Katsa screamed. 

"YOU HAVE TO BE QUIET OR THE HARPIES WILL HEAR YOU!" 

The Arcanist shook with barely-controlled rage. Her own pulse roared in her ears. Val looked over the edge again and froze. "Those two are still down there," she whispered. "There's no way they didn't hear us." 

"WHAT?" 

An almost-inaudible whump. Whump whump. 

"Clever girl." Val murmured. 

"WHAT?" 

Val drew a short blade from her hip and released it as she spun. Katsa turned just in time to see it sail past a sidewinding harpy as it flew over the top of the treeline behind them. The other one spread its wings wide and swooped down. 

Katsa stared wide-eyed at the diving monster. The harpy was even more human-like than she expected. The skin of it's thighs became scaley halfway down, ending in flesh-rending talons. The beast had vast wings in place of arms, but the head and torso were otherwise the same; that of a gorgeous woman. The harpy had a cruel kind of beauty, feral eyes glared out from a porcelain face. 

Val gave her a hard shove an instant before the harpy's claws raked through dirt she'd just been laying on. It was already banking around for another pass when Katsa recovered her bearings. 

"Get to the trees," Val roared. 

"WHAT?" 

Ayen was the first one through, with Mathilda hot on his heels. Katsa stumbled on a root and fell just past the treeline, and saw Val dragging a very confused Bard to safety. She scrambled backwards through the low brush as the harpy pulled up short, just avoiding crashing into a tree. The creature screeched at her impotently, spittle spraying from its fanged maw. She finally backed into a trunk and worked her way up to her feet to start running again. 

Ayen came running back to her with the last set of earplugs in his hands. Beyond him, Val and Mathilda were jamming theirs tightly in their ears. Val executed a series of tight hand motions that she supposed was directions, but it was all gibberish to her. Ivy stared up in awe as a harpy buzzed the treetops. Val gave up and just started jogging, and the others all fell in behind her for fear of being left. 

They skirted single file from grove to grove, sticking to the densest areas. Occasionally, Katsa would look up and spot one through a break in the canopy. She couldn't tell if all four were out, or if it was only one dogging them. And if it was just one... 

A harpy broke down into a small glade alongside them to their left, screeching ferociously and clawing up a clod of dirt but little else before it had to pull back up. Val was unphased, keeping her steady course, but Ayen and Mathilda both veered out and away to the right. A fallen branch got caught up between the Dwarf's legs, and she went down just before a second harpy swooped down at them from the other side and scooped up the Half Elf. 

Katsa had a vial in her hand immediately, but the trees obstructed her view. Mathilda was back on her feet, and Ivy closed ranks behind her. The Arcanist dawdled for a few seconds more, torn with indecision, and shoved the vial back in her belt when she started running again. 

*** 

"Ladies, please!" Ayen tried to sit up for the third time, but one of the harpies planted its clawed foot on his chest and slammed him back down into the nest. "This has all been a huge misunderstanding!" The one that had him pinned bent low and screeched at him, pelting his face with saliva. "My friends and I were merely wanting to ask for directions! We're looking for-" 

A second harpy gracefully dropped into the nest. Ayen squeaked as the second one hooked a talon into the waist of his breeches and tugged. "Uhhhh..." When the breeches caught around his hips, the second harpy grew frustrated and yanked, rending them straight down the middle. Ayen gave a shrill laugh as he peered around the foot pinning him to make sure all his bits were intact. "Never liked those pants anyway! A vast improvement!" The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the second harpy got down on its knees and straddled him. 

"This would unnerve a lesser man," he said, staring up at the first harpy. The second one reached down with the tip of its wing, and casually flipped his considerable length back against his stomach. It scooted forward and squatted, pressing its lower lips against his cock, and began grinding. "Not to say that you two aren't two of the loveliest, most attractive-" 

The first harpy bent low and screeched at him again. 

"Yeah, alright. Not big on the pillow talk." 

The harpy was distractingly wet, and he giggled nervously as much at the absurdity of it as the fact that he was quickly hardening. "Your feathers! They ah... they tickle!" 

The first harpy snarled as it lowered itself over his face. "Now wait a minute. I don't know what kind of man you ladies think I am, but-mmmmf!" 

*** 

"Where's tha Elf?" Katsa was doubled over and panting heavily. Ivy shook her head. Val was crouched on top of a rocky outcropping, scanning the horizon. "They nabbed 'im?" 

"Right after you fell," Katsa wheezed. 

" 'at's a spot o' bad luck." 

"Pretty sure they gave up," Val grunted, as she dropped down next to Mathilda. Neither of them seemed overly taxed by their panicked sprint, but Val even less so than the Dwarf. "Either that, or they got what they wanted." 

"We need to go back," Katsa rasped. 

"For 'im?" 

"Look at it this way," the Orc said grimly. "You won't owe him anymore." 

"Ah don't think Ah'll owe'm either way," she laughed. No one else seemed to think that was as funny as she did. "What's tha worst that'd happen?" 

"They'll probably mate with him," Ivy said soberly. 

"Would they really do that" 

"Oh yes," Ivy nodded sagely. "There are no male harpies, you know." 

Mathilda looked thoughtful for a moment. " 'at's not so bad..." 

Ivy frowned. "Then they'll probably eat him." 

Everyone stared silently at the ground for a moment. 

"Fuckin' 'ate harpies," Mathilda said. " 'ey're the worst." 

"Worse than trees?" 

"Oh. No. Trees, then harpies." 

*** 

"NoDon'!" Mathilda cried, but the steel had already slipped from Val's fingers. Ivy watched, fascinated, as the big Orc's sword spun end over end through the air and pierced one of the two patrolling harpies straight through the chest. It had only just begun to topple from the sky when Katsa's vial struck the second one. It's torso hardened and darkened and the raging creature shrieked as it plummeted, unable to stay aloft. "Why would ye throw yer sword?! What if it missed?!" 

"It didn't," Val said confidently. 

"Aye, but now yer sword is gone!" 

"I always have more," she replied with a grin, drawing a hand axe from her belt. 

"WHAT?" Ivy cried. The other three rolled their eyes, popped their ear plugs back in, and prepared. 

The Dwarf grumbled as she whispered over the bottle in her hand. She closed her eyes and reached back, waiting for something Ivy couldn't discern. She grunted and hurled the bottle just before the third harpy crested the ridge, and struck it square in the face, igniting on impact. Val held her axe ready, but the fourth held back, glaring at them out of range. The big Orc cursed and threw her axe with a short running start, but the beast easily dodged it. 

"What now?" Val cried, as she drew a long bladed knife from across her back. 

The harpy did not give them time to regroup. Higher and higher it climbed, hovering out of range of even Val, and began to sing. At least, Ivy was pretty sure it was singing. She couldn't hear anything with her earplugs back in. She could still see, and what she saw did not bode well. The song hit the others like a hammer blow. 

They wobbled unsteadily as the haunting melody crept around the edges of the wax, tickling at their minds. Slowly, their bodies loosened, eyes dulling as they gave in to the call's temptation. Katsa dropped the vial in her hand, and took an uncertain step forward. Mathilda was visibly trembling as she fought against the call, taking another step closer to the edge of the cliff. The harpy watched in gleeful malice as the party succumbed, a certain fall to certain death. Ivy felt a pull as well, but it was not the harpy who lured her. It was fate. 

Ivy took a step forward and a deep breath. "Did Yooooou ever knoooooooooooooow thatyou'remy HeeeeEEEeEEEEeeeEERoooooooo?" 

The harpy screeched and struggled to stay aloft. It raked at it's ears in vain, trying to block out the pain. 

"YOU'RE EVERYthing I would LIKE to BEEEEEE!" 

Katsa knelt down, wincing, and wrapped her hand tightly around the glowing purple vial that had fallen at her feet. Mathilda fell to her knees and grabbed her head while Katsa chanted over her vial. The glass tube began to glow brighter and brighter. 

"DID You EVER KNOOOOoOOOOOoOOoOOOOOoooooow that YOU'RE MY-" 

Katsa dove forward, thrusting both arms out as she fell, and the vial flew through the air. At first, it looked like it would sail well below the harpy, but it sloped upward in a gentle arc. The vial impacted against the fluttering monster and consumed it in an impenetrable cloud of smoke. Ivy gasped as she watched a very confused chicken, flailing for all it was worth, sink out of the bottom of that cloud and fall out of sight. She scampered to the edge and held her hand to her ear, waiting to hear the impact, but she never did. 




Terrible Company Ch. 04



"You couldn't have waited two more minutes?" Ayen yelled. 

"WHAT?" 

"Oh fer fucks sakes!" Mathilda grabbed a fistful of red curls, pulled Ivy down to her level, and yanked out the beeswax. The Bard winced as her ears popped. 

Katsa stared at her, stunned. "What the hell was that?" 

"I told you bardic magic was a real thing," Ivy beamed. 

"I'll have you know," Ayen started, puffing and gasping as he tossed an arm over the top, "that I had that whole situation under control!" 

"They were gunna eat you after they were dun' shaggin' yer teeny brains out, ye daft bastard!" 

"Trust me," he laughed. "I was the one doing all the eating." Mathilda groaned and walked away. 

"Did you get the egg?" 

Ayen opened his hip pouch and produced a large white egg with a flourish, and Katsa sighed in relief. 

"It's a long walk back to town," Ivy observed, as they collected themselves and turned back. "Maybe I could sing a song?" 

"No," they replied in unison. 

"I take requests!" 

"Why don't we all play the quiet game for a little while," Katsa suggested, as she pressed on her temples. 

"Yay! Ok. In three, two, one, go!"



Terrible Company Ch. 05



Ellie stared at her from across the table. The thin, faded scar on her left cheek skewed her lip slightly, just as it always had. Val loved her crooked smile, cliche or not. Her hands slid, open, across the table, seeking Val's; small, dark Human enfolded within larger, green Orc. It felt good to hold Ellie again. Felt like home. 

Suddenly she flinched away, staring down at her hands in horror. Blisters bubbled up from under skin, her flesh boiling of its own accord. She looked up at Val, terrified, and screamed, but Val heard only the soft wind. Val's eyes were transfixed on her scar; it was glowing. Ellie noiselessly screamed again as her skin blackened and cracked, the space between lit orange from within. Her coarse, black hair gave off tendrils of smoke. The smell... 

Bits of charred flesh broke off, carried away on the wind. Ellie watched them go in horror, her lips working soundlessly. She reached for Val, grabbing her hands, and Val recoiled in searing pain. Ellie kept reaching, her eyes glassy and dim. Unseeing. The bits of orange in between brightened, flared, until they covered everything. Her clothes, burned away. Everything. Burned away. 

Val bolted upright, gasping for air, heart hammering at her chest. Her clothes and hair, drenched and dripping. The sky above her was already gray; dawn would come soon. 

*** 

"All quiet 'cept fer you." Mathilda frowned sympathetically as the Orc sat down beside her. "Heard ya whinin' in yer sleep, lass." 

Val stared blankly into the embers. "I'll take over if you wanna get in a quick nap before we move." 

Mathilda shrugged and put the cap back on her flask. "Ah think Ah'll take ya up on tha'." The big Orc nodded as Mathilda ambled back to her makeshift pillow. She laid down and closed her eyes, but sleep was slow in coming. Between the soft wind, the occasional animal scurrying through the brush, and all the gods-damned trees, her senses simply refused to stand down. 

"Hey," Val whispered. Mathilda popped an eye open and peeked back over her shoulder, but the sound seemed too far away to have been directed at her. "You awake?" 

"Yeah," Katsa drearily whispered back. 

"Then get up, bookworm. It's time." 

Mathilda rolled onto her side and tossed her arm over her ear as the oddest pairing of fuckbuddies she'd ever known snuck away. A brief mental image of Paesa drew a tired sigh before she could quash it. It didn't help to dwell on things that could have been. 

The enormity of things could have been made her want to explode sometimes. 

Her eyelids drifted apart for a moment to find Ivy staring intently at her, but the Dwarf sighed and rolled onto her back. "C'mon, ye miserable bastard," she grumbled. "Lemme ge' a quick wink." Distant cries floated through the forest, as Val and her fucktoy began without going far enough to avoid earshot. 

"Every day should start with that sound," Ayen sang as he stretched. 

Mathilda shook her head and groaned. "At's like listenin' to an extended stabbing!" 

"Some stabbings are better than others," he lilted. 

Ivy leaned over to whisper conspiratorially. "He's talking about his penis." 

" 'e's always talking abou' 'is penis," Mathilda groaned. 

"And she's grumpy because she didn't sleep," Ayen said soothingly, as he leaned toward Ivy. "Why don't you and I head back toward the road a bit and I'll teach you a new song? It's got a powerful climax," he teased. 

"No thank you," Ivy responded cheerily. 

Ayen's grin never faltered. "Fine. You two stay here. I'm gonna make sure Katsa doesn't need some fluids to keep her strength up." 

Mathilda took a few deep breaths and counted down from ten as she listened for his footsteps, but the blasted Elf never made a sound. How could you trust someone who was so damn quiet? she thought. She shook her head and rolled onto her back again; Ayen was nowhere in sight, and Ivy was frowning in thought. "Tha' time, 'e was talkin' abou' semen. Ah s'pose 'at still counts." 

Ivy pursed her lips in thought. "What about when he was talking about not needing to hunt yesterday because he already had meat?" 

"Penis," Mathilda replied. 

"When he said he had something to help Val with her headache?" 

"Penis." 

"What about when he said the Tower of Halphais wasn't the greatest tower in the world?" 

"Penis," Mathilda said, and Ivy nodded slowly. "Ya did a fine job of deflectin' his advances, lass." 

"Is that what that was?" 

"What'd ye think 'e meant by 'powerful climax'?" 

Ivy scratched her chin with the tip of a fingernail. "I thought he was talking about a crescendo." 

"Nope. Penis." 

"I had no idea he liked me like that." The Bard shrugged and laid back down. "It's sweet, but I kind of like my men to be..." 

"Not complete pigs," Mathilda suggested. 

"What? No... I was gonna say more manly." 

Mathilda cackled. "Yer alright, lass. Any time 'e's ever comin' on a bit strong, feel free ta signal me fer backup." 

"Oh, I think I can handle him," the redhead said. "My training involved a lot of groping and coming on me." 

"Ah think ya mean they was comin' on to ya." 

"That too," Ivy said with a nod. 

The Dwarf kicked her feet up in the air with a short, barking laugh. "We're gonna get along just fine." 

Ivy beamed. 

*** 

The Half-Elf sucked a sharp breath through his teeth as he stepped over a small puddle in the road. Val smiled to herself, although it was only a fleeting moment of sadistic joy. She shook her head and trudged on. The forest had only gotten thicker as they'd walked, and it was putting an itch between her shoulderblades. 

"I'm hungry," Ayen whined. 

"We know," the rest of them groaned in unison. 

"I could eat an entire rack of wyvern ribs! You know what I can't eat? A stupid book." 

Katsa sniffed in indignation. "You just don't appreciate it's true worth." 

"Can tha' book make food?" 

"No," Katsa snarled, clutching her bag even tighter. 

"Add it to tha list, lass." 

"That makes 127 things the book cannot do," Ivy replied brightly, making a few vigorous notations at the bottom of her notepad. 

"You don't have to keep giving me the running tally," Katsa hissed. 

"Oh, I most certainly do! I have it written right here." Ivy flipped back a few pages, her brow furrowing as she searched. She triumphantly underlined the pertinent portion and proclaimed, "Article VII, paragraph 1. Constant reminders of previous missteps are legitimate recourse for offended parties." 

"Whats's about articles now?" 

"Bylaws," Ivy chirped. "I've been recording our Party Bylaws." 

"Doesn't sound like any party I've ever been to," Ayen quipped, "and my preposition is fine right where it is." Ivy blinked and closed her mouth. 

Val glared sideways at Katsa, who pretended very hard not to know any such thing was happening. "We're not a Party!" 

"You're right," Ivy said, nodding. "Adventuring parties are too overdone. What would you guys think about something non-traditional? Like... The Sweeping Force." She swept her arms out demonstratively. 

"S'abit high concept, innit?" 

"This isn't happening," Val grumbled, rubbing her forehead. 

"I second the idea of something non-traditional," Ayen said, "but not The Sweeping Force. Makes it sound like we're maids. Not that there's anything wrong with maids... especially when they're wearing cute little uniforms." 

"My vote makes three! The motion carries!" Ivy flipped a few pages further toward the back of her notepad and began to scribble furiously. "Something... non... tra-di-tion-al." 

"Can tha' book help us find a name?" 

Katsa bristled. "No," she gritted out reluctantly. 

"128!" 

"Seems abit useless, dunnit?" 

"Your inability to comprehend the value of this tome changes nothing!" 

Mathilda shook her head as they walked. "S'not a problem of value, lass. It's clearly worth one harpy egg, plus the time 'n travel of the five of us. It's the exchange rate Ah'm havin' trouble with." 

"As our Benevolent Dictator for Life, exchange rates are pretty much your purview," Ayen said. The Arcanist rolled her eyes in irritation. 

"Got any rules in 'em Bylaws fer votin' greedy, self-centered snobs outta power?" 

Katsa scoffed as Ivy quickly scanned through the small yellow pages. "No," Ivy said, "but I think a simple majority vote would suffice. That's how we've been handling most things." 

"I didn't want to be in charge," the Arcanist defended, "but someone has to do it." 

"No' you. No' anymore. All in favor of votin' Katsa out as de facto leader?" 

"Yup," Ayen said fervently. 

"What about The Magnificent Five?" 

"No. Too close to Tha Magnificent Seven and focus, lass! We need yer vote!" 

"Oh no," Ivy said, shaking her head. "I'm the counter. I'm impartial except in case of a tie." 

"I abstain," Val grumbled. Katsa clicked her tongue and sulked along behind the others, clutching her bag ever tighter. 

"Then the motion carries!" 

A sudden calm struck the Arcanist. Her stride lengthened, and her usual confidence was fully present. "I nominate Val to take over." 

"What?!" The Orc lost her cool as quickly as Katsa had recovered seconds earlier. "No. No way." 

"Do we even need a leader?" Mathilda mused. "Ah mean, is absolute democracy completely off tha table?" 

"Seconded for Val," Ayen quickly added. 

Val growled. "The next per-" 

"Thirded!" Ivy cried. "The motion carries!" 

Val threw up her hands in frustration and stared at down at Katsa. "You know I didn't want this." 

The Arcanist, for her part, smiled innocently. "My father always used to say 'responsibility builds character'." 

The big Orc drew herself up to her full, towering height. "If my character gets any bigger," she hissed, "it's gonna split you in half." Ayen winced at the thought. 

Val's fists quivered at her sides, nostrils flaring with annoyance. "Fine," she snorted. "Drop your gear, Limpy. You're going scouting." 

Ayen groaned as he unshouldered his pack with a sigh. Val enjoyed another all-too-brief moment of sadistic joy watching his backside as he hobbled off ahead 

"Ah take it tha' hitch innis step is yer doin?" Mathilda sneered as she scooped up the Half-Elf's pack. 

"He's just playing it up for sympathy," Val smirked. "That didn't leave him half as 'butthurt' as getting back to find you using Ivy's tits for a pillow." 

Mathilda rolled her eyes. "Nothin' 'appened!" 

"The only things I know how to say in Elvish" Katsa chimed in, "are curse words. He said all the ones I know and I few that I didn't." 

"What about Terrible Company?" Ivy interjected. 

"That's the best suggestion I've heard yet," Sarcasm dripped from Val's voice. "I'm so glad we brought her along!" Ivy preened, oblivious, and made a few notations in her notepad. Katsa resumed her sulking. 

"Terrible?" Mathilda asked, a few seconds later. 

"Yeah, yanno... like, Terrible as the dawn!" 

The Dwarf quirked her head as they walked. "Issat some kinda human sayin?" 

"Read it in a book." 

"Some'ow, Ah think ya got that one wrong, lass." 

*** 

The warm afternoon rays flitted through the slowly drifting canopy, shafts of light caressing her alabaster skin. She writhed in the grass, her long black hair cascading from out beneath her. The young maiden's hands roamed over her naked flesh, covering and uncovering in turn. Her lip caught softly between teeth, youthful beauty rivaled only by the natural beauty surrounding her. Her eyes flickered at movement to her side. One knee lifted and crossed over the other, but her vulnerability was beyond question and he knew it. 

Thick stubble covered his jaw, giving a rugged edge to an already rugged man. His dark smile made darker by a jagged scar tracing his cheek. The maiden withdrew her feet, her knees rising over her chest as he settled down in the grass below her. He grabbed her ankles, roughly parting her legs, and she whimpered. Her brow furrowed in- 

"Hey," Ayen whispered, as he dropped down beside The Narrator. The white-haired man figuratively jumped out of his skin, and twisted to cover himself. "No no. Don't stop on my account." 

"It's hardly appropriate," he sputtered, indignantly tucking himself back into his undergarment, "for me to continue soliloquizing while you kneel there." 

"What," the elf whispered,"you mean jacking off?" 

The bard grit his teeth and turned back to the young couple. Penetration had already happened, and he'd missed it. The Narrator sighed in exasperation 

"What're you doin' way out here anyway?" 

The white-haired man rolled his eyes and tugged his breeches back up. "I have a few colleagues out this way who were wanting my input on a sensitive matter." Both men turned at a soft cry. The dark-haired woman arched up off the ground, sweeping her ample breasts up toward her armpits. "I happened upon these two youthful doves by serendipity." 

"Oh, they didn't pay you?" 

"Sadly, no. This one is on the house. What about you?" 

"Scouting ahead." 

The Narrator scowled. "Is that boorish beast with you? The she-orc?" 

"Yeah, but she's not likely to catch up to us for a while. You've got time." 

The couple's cries of passion intertwined; soft whimpers contrasted sharply against deep, rhythmic grunting. The Narrator stared at Ayen out of the corner of his eye, and slowly raised his eyebrows. "Well?" 

"Well what?" Ayen asked, without looking away from the spectacle before him. 

"Do you mind?" 

"Oh. Oh! We're not gonna watch together?" 

The Narrator held out his hand, palm up, expectantly. The Half-Elf stared down, and then frowned thoughtfully at the man and woman writhing in the field ahead. "I'll take my chances," Ayen said. 

"Suit yourself," the old man replied, as he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his breeches. "If it helps, I believe they're wasted." The Half-Elf smirked as he slipped away. 

*** 

Ayen made a stealthy circle of the couple. He spotted their campsite once he moved around to the far side, and knelt down next in the middle of the stream of discarded articles of clothing. There were several broken, off-white stems in the grass around their cook pot. Ayen spotted an unbroken mushroom in the shade of a nearby Elm. His grin darkened dramatically after taking a good whiff. 

*** 

"Mortals!" Ayen boomed, as he stepped naked through the brush. The man and woman froze mid-thrust and stared in stunned silence, like he had just sprouted horns or a second head. He spread his arms grandiosely, his smile confident and wide. "Who copulates within my realm? Within the holy grove of the Lord of Wood?" 

The young man, mouth agape, managed no more than a dumb grunt. The young woman, however, twisted free from her lovers grip and prostrated herself before the Half-Elf. "Oh Great Lord," she plead. "We-" 

"Silence!" 

The young man joined her seconds later, face down. Ayen could barely contain his glee. 

"Your names." 

"J-J-June," the woman stammered, lifting her head slightly. "a-a-and this is Rolf." 

Rolf dipped his head even further in acknowledgement. "Please, My Lord! Don't smite us!" 

"Smite you?" Ayen laughed. "Surely you are not here, in this sacred clearing, on this day, by accident." 

Only the briefest of pauses. "We are ignorant, oh Lord of Wood!" 

Ayen had to bite down hard on his knuckle to keep from blowing it. "This is a holy day, for it is the day of my rebirth!" 

"My... My Lord?" June said. 

"Rejoice!" Their heads rose an inch as the Half-Elf began to walk around them. "You shall carry my heir within you for two winters." 

"She's gonna be pregnant for two years?" Rolf cried. June trembled beside him. 

"Of course not," Ayen said jovially. "No daughter of man could bear my childe." They both calmed significantly. At first. Ayen chuckled as he watched June turn slowly toward Rolf, realization hitting her first. 

"What?!" Rolf cried. "No!" They stared at each other for several long seconds while Ayen continued to circle them. The soft grass felt good between his toes. Rolf's eyes darted over her shoulder, catching sight of the Half-Elf's semi-erection, and he whimpered. "No... June, please! I can't!" 

"I can't help you, tadpole!" she said earnestly. "Who are we to defy a god?" She half turned and paused. "You are a god, right?" 

Ayen, remembering a treatise he'd read on how to respond to this exact situation, nodded firmly and said "Yes." 

"You know I think this is hot," June said, as they both sat back on their heels. 

"Juuuuune!" Rolf hissed, but June kept right on going. 

"I've been trying to get you to have sex with another man for months so I could watch." 

"This is not the time!" 

"This is exactly the time," she said joyfully. 

"Are you sure she can't handle this?" Rolf asked, turning to Ayen. 

"Nay," he boomed. "Her delicate, feminine frame cannot withstand the rigors my seed will inflict upon you. The Fates have sent me a worthy carrier, truly, and I am pleased." Ayen had no idea how he was still keeping a straight face. 

"Fuck," Rofl cried. His eyes locked onto Ayen's still-hardening cock, and he swallowed hard. "Fuck," he repeated, much softer. 

Ayen loved that reaction. It always made him swell with pride. Next to Rolf, June was already flushing, the pale skin of her chest and bosom turning bright pink. Her hands rested on her thighs, but her fingers itched to slide down between them. She was waiting for her moment, so Ayen gave her one. 

Two quick strides put him right in front of Rolf. The young human's eyes crossed staring at the tip of his cock. Ayen tucked a finger underneath his chin and directed him upward. The young man, once standing, was nearly as tall as he. Ayen grinned as he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Rolf's surprised lips. June whimpered beside them. 

The kiss lingered, Rolf's lips clinging longer than he would have thought. The rugged Human even leaned into it after a few seconds. He tilted his head slightly, lips parting, and found his new plaything surprisingly compliant. In his mind, Ayen did backflips. 

"What do we call you?" June asked breathily. 

Ayen placed his hands delicately along Rolf's jawline, and held him there as the kiss finally drifted to an end. "Lord will suffice." The soft schlick-schlick of her hand between her thighs was music to his ears. "My name was not meant for your tongue. Now," he said, turning slightly, "I need to be very wet for this. Do you think you could oblige?" June leapt forward on her knees, gratefully taking his cockhead inside her mouth. 

"I-" Rolf started, but Ayen turned back to him and silenced him with another kiss. His tongue wormed between the Human's shocked lips, and found the young man... eager. 

"You were not forgotten," Ayen said in a brief pause for breath. His hands slid down over Rolf's neck and shoulders. Over his brawny chest. Ayen loved the masculine ones, thick muscles under coarse hair. Especially if he was topping them. The curves of a strong man were vastly underrated in Ayen's opinion. One arm slid around behind Rolf, hand splayed against the Human's lower back. So warm against his palm. His other hand settled on top of June's head, and he guided himself further into the back of her mouth. "Wetter, or young Rolf here will be very cross." 




Terrible Company Ch. 05



June whimpered as she worked, the soft schlick-schlick of her fingers barely audible over the rustling of the trees at the edge of the clearing. Ayen's reached further down and grabbed a handful of Rolf's thick flank. The human grunted and rose up on his toes, right into another long kiss. June's soft moaning and fingering broadcast her approval. 

"Spit on it," Ayen commanded, leaving Rolf breathless and gasping. June moaned again as she backed off and spat, slathering pre-cum and saliva across his shaft. "Kneel before the Wood Lord, human." 

Rolf lowered himself hesitantly onto hands and knees. Ayen could barely hide his grin when he saw how hard the young Human was; he couldn't hide how hard it made him though, and June whimpered again. The girl was a whimper-machine. 

Ayen felt a giddy lightheadedness as he knelt down behind Rolf. His rigid cock stood out like a flagpole. He hummed happily as he placed his hands on Rolf's cheeks, and separated. June gasped and twitched, her first orgasm coming early and hard. Ayen hoped it wouldn't be her last, as her convulsing and purring was entirely pleasing to watch. 

He kept one hand firm on the Human's cheek, holding it to the side, while the other guided his considerable length to the pucker. Rolf looked back fearfully over his shoulder. "Focus on her," Ayen said. June sat back on her heels, panting. "See how she glows? See the flush in her cheeks?" Rolf turned to look, nodding dumbly, and Ayen seized the moment. He spat a wad of saliva onto his head and pushed. 

"Oh Gods!" Rolf screamed, his face tight with strain. 

"Just Lord will do, thank you." Ayen took a deep breath, and relished the soft schlick-schlick sound echoing through the clearing again. "Brace yourself. I'm going to push further." 

"Is it almost all the way in?" 

"No," Ayen said with a chuckle. "No, it is not." He grabbed the Human's hips tightly and thrust again, drawing a throaty whine from his plaything. The way Rolf clenched down on him felt amazing, but he had miles to go. Figuratively. "Relax, human." 

Rolf groaned and twisted, but the pressure never let up. Ayen thought for a moment, and then backed out slowly. "June, if you're not too busy," he crooned, "would you let us borrow a little of your nectar? 

June blinked through the haze of pleasure, and then eagerly scooted across the grass on her knees. "Oooh, you're gaping!" she said, as she pushed two dripping fingers into his rectum. 

"Don- oh Goooods..." Rolf head dropped forward, and he groaned delicately while she probed his ass. 

"There," she whispered, giving each of her fingertips a quick suckle. "I'm so proud of you, tadpole." She moved up next to his head, her nails trailing lightly along his back. "We're gonna raise a God." 

How many mushrooms did they eat? he wondered. 

Ayen scooted forward again, and was met with far less resistance with his second push. Rolf groaned again, just as hard and deep as the first time. His hands formed fists, ripping blades of grass as they tightened, and his toes curled back into the pads of his bare feet as Ayen pushed smoothly inside. 

"There," Ayen crowed, as his hips came to rest against the Human's cheeks. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Rolf groaned wordlessly, and June leaned over him to look. 

"Wooooooow," she said distantly, as she stared down at his reddened ring. Ayen indulged in a lengthy stare at her pert breasts and tender, pink nipples, but his cock ached to thrust. "Oh tadpole, you should see this. It's incredible!" 

"Would you like to help, dear one?" Ayen couldn't resist playing up the dialogue, and June couldn't agree to help fast enough. "Grab his cheeks there and there, and spread them gently." Her eyes lit up as she stared down, and Ayen savored that first pull back from the hilt. Rolf cried out as he started pushing again. "Gently, my dear." 

June nodded absently; her eyes were locked, absolutely, on the stretched ring of her lover. Every time he moaned, she moaned with him. Every time Ayen pushed in, her eyes widened in wonder like a child witnessing a magical disappearing act. 

"It feeee-oh Gods!- ...feels like you're... like you're..." 

"Yes," Ayen boomed, although he knew he was losing some of his showiness. 

"...in my stomach," Rolf finally finished. 

"I may be gifted," Ayen grunted, "but even I'm not that gifted." 

"Ooooh fuuuuck," Rofl moaned, as Ayen sped up. "Oh Fuck." 

Ayen pressed a finger underneath June's chin, and lifted her awe-struck face to his. She tasted like raspberries. "Were this... any other day," he said, regaining a little composure, "I would ravish you properly, next." June whimpered happily, and he kissed her again. He had to switch his rhythm to stay still enough to be kissed, using his hands to pull and push Rolf backward and forward. To his delight, he didn't have to pull and push very hard; Rolf was doing half the work on his own. 

He had to break the kiss moments later. His hips would not be denied. He roared as he felt his loins clenching in anticipation. Faster and faster, he pounded. June fell away beside him and touched herself again, her soft whimpers decorating the air. Faster and faster. Rolf screamed again, his hole tightening viciously around Ayen's girth. Faster and faster. Ayen's mind raced, as he drew near for an appropriately God-like reaction to orgasm, but as the moment arrived and he threw back his head, all he could come up with was "Excelsior!" 

"Ohmygods," June whined. Schlick-schlick. "Ohmygods! OhMyGods!" Her small voiced thinned and thinned and her thighs clamped together tightly, hiding everything below the wrist. Rolf heaved, his throat raspy. 

"This burden is not on him alone," Ayen said raggedly, knowing full well he'd lost the tone. Neither of them seemed to notice or care. "My heir will exact a great toll on his body. He won't appear pregnant as a woman does, but he'll need constant sex to ease the pressure." Rolf slumped forward into the grass. Ayen couldn't help tilting his head to stare down into the cum-leaking gape in the Human's backside, and smirking. "Whelp, gotta go. Important God business to attend to." 

"Thank you, great Lord of Wood!" June's tired voice followed him as he strode, on wobbly legs, toward the edge of the clearing. "Thank you for this blessing!" 

*** 

"I smell Bard," Val grumbled. 

Mathilda leaned toward the redhead, sniffed, and shrugged. "Smells fine to me. Tha' a body wash, lass?" 

"Essence of passion lotus," Ivy said, beaming. 

" 'at's nice." 

"Not her," the big Orc grumbled. "I'm smelling..." Val took another whiff, and her lips twisted. "...rosin." 

"Don't tha' comes from pine trees?" 

"Which there aren't a lot of here in the south," Val turned and shouted. "Are we all on the same page now?!" 

"No' even close, lass." Mathilda didn't back down a hair. "What's tha' concern? Tha' they'll sing us to death?" 

"I'd have thought we'd be natural allies on this, Tilly. They're probably hiding in the trees!" 

Mathilda fumed; the leather grip of her hammer creaked inside her whitened fist. "Wha' did you call meh?" Val took a step closer to the Dwarf, who was not perturbed in the least that she was looking practically straight up. "My people carve out mountains fer breakfast. Wha' makes you think yer any dif'rent?" 

"Aren't you going to do something?" Ivy whispered. 

"One of 'em is about to take the other one down a peg," Katsa replied, her arms folded defensively across her small chest. "I'm fine with it either way." 

Without looking away, Mathilda asked, "Can tha' book resolve disputes?" 

"How many times do I have to explain this?!" the Arcanist screeched. 

"134," Ivy said, pulling out her notebook. 

"Meister Eu'Vitreo's Compendium on transmorphic multidimensional field theory is..." 

"Nobody cares!" the Dwarf roared. 

"...is a groundbreaking and exceedingly rare-" 

"Kat!" Val cried. "Shut up!" 

Katsa bristled, her ire pulsing in time with a rhythmic thudding in her ears. She began mentally preparing a blistering response, but... Val and Mathilda's eyes were tight with strain. Neither had broken their stare, but it was clear they both wanted to. Dum dum. Dum dum. Ivy turned and peered into the forest behind her. Dum dum. Dum dum. 

It wasn't pounding or thudding. Someone... Many someones... were all saying, "Dum dum. Dum dum," together. 

Val looked away first, and growled deep in her throat. "Bards." 

From behind trees and bushes, in front of them and to either side of the path, they appeared. At least 30 strong, armed with an assortment of bows and crossbows, all chanting "Dum dum. Dum dum." Nine more traipsed, traipsed!, across the footpath ahead in lock step. 

"Weeeell," sang the first three. 

"By Rhogan, are they mad?" 

"Weeeell," sang the second three, exactly two notes higher. 

"Weeeell," sang the last, three and a half notes above the second. 

"Weeeell," all nine repeated, forming a perfect three-part harmony. 

"This is a nightmare," Val said hoarsely. "I'm asleep, and this is a nightmare." 

That's when the singing and choreographed dancing began. 

"Roses are red 

and Dandelions yellow. 

If you came seeking violence 

You found the right fellows!" 

All 30 of them bopped and spun and shimmied and wiggled in perfect unison. Ivy gleefully clapped along to the beat, eyes full of wonder, as the show unfolded. Katsa stared slack-jawed, finding she-couldn't-tell-how-many more swaying on or swinging from branches above. That many more weapons pointed, ostensibly, at them. Val's arm moved slowly toward the knives she kept along her belt. 

"Don't," Mathilda said, grabbing the green-skinned wrist. 

"We're a right nasty bunch (so don't even try it!) 

We'll hack off your leg and deep fry it!" 

"Why not?" Val snarled. 

"Ooooh, We are the meanest! A real gang of thugs! 

Just ask the man playing the jugs!" 

A one-legged man, sitting on a stump in the back, shrugged and nodded. Ivy squealed with glee. 

"D'ye want yer first real decision while yer in charge to be a bloodbath?" The Dwarf grinned. "S'abit cliche, innit? An Orc resortin' ta violence at tha drop of'a hat?" Veins burst from Val's neck and forehead as she struggled to contain herself. 

"On your left! On your right! We are all around! 

In no time at all, we will have you bound! 

Your corpse, in a hole where you'll never be found! 

Unless, from your pockets, you hand over crowns!" 

"Gold, that is," sang a particularly deep-voiced fellow as he appeared on the path behind them. "Yellow oil. Lannister G." 

Dozens of them skipped, skipped!, in two circles, one moving clockwise inside another moving counterclockwise, singing "Please drop your weapons!" in a continuous two-part round. Mathilda couldn't stop herself from laughing; in part, at Val's attempts to refrain from spectacular violence, and in part at the sheer absurdity of her surroundings. Ivy cheered enthusiastically. 

*** 

"Gold, that is," Ivy sang, as she snapped her fingers happily. "Yellow Oil." She smiled again and scribbled in her notebook. "Lannister-" 

"Shut Up!" Val roared. The big Orc paced frantically. 

Mathilda, laying on her back in the corner of their small cage, peeked an eye open. "Don' take it pers'nally, lass. She's no' mad at you." 

"Yer right!" she shouted, pointing. "I'm pissed at you!" 

The Dwarf snorted and resettled herself in the grass. "Oh ya. This is my fault." 

"If you hadn't stopped me-" 

"If Ah hadn't stopped ya," Mathilda snapped, "those two'd be dead. Maybe me too. That sound like a win by yer reckonin'?" 

"Yeah, because of course a bunch of bards know how to shoot a bow." 

The Healer sat up and frowned. "Why do ye think ya smelled rosin? Hmm? Protects tha strings, dunnit?" she asked, turning to Ivy. "Helps'm stay nice an' taut?" 

"Um-" Ivy started, but Mathilda went right on past her. 

"I di'nt see any a'them with their arrows loaded backwards, did you?" 

"So they must be master criminals!" Val ranted. "And crack shots!" 

"They're still bards," Mathilda scoffed, as she laid back down. "No offense." 

"None taken," Ivy said brightly, if a bit unsure why she would be offended. 

"Tha diff'rence," she continued, as she tried to get comfortable again, "issat Ah'm willin' to wait til they show me how they're incompetent b'fore Ah act onnit." 

"Prisoners!" Everyone turned as a small group of their captors, bows in hand, approached the door to their poorly-cobbled wooden cage. The speaker, wearing a jaunty feathered cap, smirked maliciously. "Interrogation time! Who's first?" 

"See?" Mathilda interlaced her fingers behind her head and smiled upwards. "Matter'a time." 

"We'll start with the Orcess." 

*** 

"Feedback?" Val blinked uncomprehendingly. 

"Exactly!" the first bandit exclaimed. "As our inaugural captives, you're the first outsiders to see our unique mix of thievery and showmanship." 

The second one jumped right in. "We were hoping to get some reactions, both initial and after-the-fact, to help us refine the production" 

The Orc flexed and clenched her fists. Her forearms shook as she tried to keep them still and settled against the rests of her needlessly-comfortable chair. 

"Anything you can suggest would be helpful," the first one said. "From weapons choice, to choreography, to location. We want it all." 

"Be brutal." The second bandit's eager expression utterly perplexed Val. "Sometimes, we get so... sort of..." 

"In our own heads?" 

"Yeah!" the second agreed, and the first one nodded vigorously. "We can just completely lose sight of the point." 

Val stared down at the table for a moment, processing. She glared at the two buffoons and thought about how easy it would be to just reach across the table and throttle them. She thought about the two guards behind her, and how she could effortlessly tear her chair into a dozen pieces of about the right size to bludgeon a human to death. She thought about the two young guards beside her, and how all she'd have to do was stand up and yell 'Boo!' to send them running with a fresh stain in their breeches. 

And then she thought about her mother, and since Val couldn't think of anything nice to say, she didn't. 

*** 

The two bandits glanced at each other in confusion as Mathilda threw back her head and laughed uproariously. 

*** 

"I thought you might ask that," Ivy said excitedly. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out two of her yellow journals. "I made some notes." 

*** 

"No no," Mathilda wheezed. "No. This time, Ah promise. Go ahead." She wiped her hands across her cheeks, smearing tears. 

"We were hoping-" The second bandit hung his head in frustration as Mathilda burst into a fresh round of hysterics. 

*** 

"I was with you guys up until the 'chop off your leg and deep fry it' part. The imperfect cadence really threw me, and the whole realism of your work really staggers at that point." 

"You think we were overselling the threat level?" the first bandit asked, as he stared pointedly at the second. 

"Exactly," Ivy replied, oblivious as she stared down at her notes. "The tone of it was a little at odds with the bright color scheme you guys chose for the uniforms, the jazz hands, and the high-kicking backup dancers to the left and right." 

"What did I say?" the first bandit said, holding his arms out. "Did I not say that exact same thing?" 

"Here we go!" The second bandit folded his arms over his chest and sulked. "Why do you always have a problem with jazz hands?!" Ivy looked up from her notes and calmly waited for a break in the conversation to continue. 

*** 

"Anything?" the second bandit asked. "Anything at all?" 

Ten more seconds, Val thought to herself. Just make it through this next ten seconds. That's not so hard, right? 

*** 

"Rhogan's crotch, I needed tha'." Mathilda sat back, red-faced and heaving. "Say what you will abou' tha' miserable bastard; 'es go' a sense'a 'umor." 

"Are you quite finished?" 

"Aye. Sorry abou' tha'. Had a run of the giggles." Mathilda coughed and shook her head. "Ye were wanting... feedback?" 

"Yes," the first bandit replied in exasperation. 

"On yer... performance?" she tittered. 

"You know what? Nevermind. Take her back," the second one said. 

"She thinks we're a joke," the first one commiserated. 

"No, hey!" the second bandit said, grabbing the first one by the shoulder. "Don't listen to her. Don't let her taint what we're building here." 

"Taint is right," Mathilda managed, before descending into another fit of full-throated cackling. 

*** 

"-but you insisted on a round! You said it 'had to be a round'." 

"Rounds are making a big comeback in the Tovekian theater circuit, right?" the second bandit said, turning to the redhead. 

"Oh yes," Ivy agreed. "I-" 

"See? I wanted us to be ahead of this thing for once, not just lagging a season behind like always!" 

"We're not in Tovekia," the first bandit sniped. "We're in a backwater forest in backwater Salesia." 

"Why can't you just accept that this is where we are? I'm trying to make the best of this, and all you can add is negativity." 

"Because I want more out of life," the first bandit cried, "than the dog's dinner we've been handed." 

The second bandit took a sharp breath and leaned back. "Is that what you think this is?" Both bandits paused, shocked to find themselves in such a critical conversation so suddenly. 

"The jug player also wasn't... keeping very good..." Ivy wilted beneath the bleary, tear-filled stares directed at her. " ...time?" 

*** 

"I was only trying to help," Ivy explained, as she was hustled back into the cage. The guards slammed and latched the door behind her, and stalked off like angry cats. "They're just lucky The Maestro didn't see that. He'd have had some harsh words for them, and then some really rough anal sex." 

"That explains... like... so much," Katsa grumbled. 

"Did you guys see that?" Val whispered incredulously. She leaned over, grabbed one of the lowest horizontal bars of their cage, and lifted. The entire fragile network of sticks rose up, like an upside down cup. "It's not even anchored! What is this made out of? Balsa wood?!" A loud argument broke out on the far side of the bandit camp just as Val let go. "I think this is a prop cage..." 

"How come they haven't taken Katsa yet?" Ivy asked, as she sat down next to Mathilda. Most of the bandits they could see began to wander off in twos and threes toward the source of the yelling. 

"Dunno," the Dwarf answered, "but they cer'ainly coulda used that stick up 'er ass to reinforce this sorry excuse fer a cell." 

"Bite me." 

"Careful what ye wish for, lass." 

Katsa froze, and then shared several seconds of direct eye contact with Val. 

"Well don't you all look cozy," Ayen laughed, as he leaned up against the outside of their makeshift prison The cage slid across the grass, and Ayen had only the slightest hitch in regaining his balance. An ill-fitting bandit uniform hung from his lean frame. 




Terrible Company Ch. 05



"Where the fuck have you been," Val growled. 

"I met some travelers on a pilgrimage," he explained, "and I gave them some, uh, substantial guidance." 

"Penis?" 

"Penis." 

"And you've been doing what since then?" Val's voice had a tangible edge. 

"You'd have been proud," he crowed. "I tracked you guys down, stole this uniform, and was working my way through the camp, right? Getting the lay of the land? I found two disgruntled seamsters who were mad about some of their costume suggestions getting rejected. I'd just started to work on them, when all of a sudden this one," he says, pointing at Ivy, "sets off a bomb. I don't know what you did, kid, but they're over there now ripping themselves apart." 

"I was only trying to help," Ivy whined. 

"Ye did great, lass." Mathilda slapped Ivy on the thigh reassuringly, and that seemed to appease the Bard. 

"Hey," Ayen shouted, toward the few remaining guards. "I'll stay here. Why don't you go see what that's all about." The other guards nodded and jogged off, leaving the group guarded only by the Half-Elf. "We should go," he said. "Apparently they've been out here practicing for months, and they blew almost their entire budget on props and costumes. Once the leadership is gone, it could get ugly." 

" 'ow ugly could it ge'? They're just bards," Mathilda scoffed. "No offense." 

"None taken," Ivy said brightly. 

Val grabbed the door handle and yanked, but the handle broke clean off in her hand. "Why would they even put a handle on the inside of a cage?" She sighed and lifted the cage above her head, and the rest of the group ducked out following Ayen. 

"All your stuff is intact," he smiled. "The fact that we had no gold meant that we had nothing they wanted." 

"Thank ye, ye miserable bastard, fer small favors." 

Katsa rushed ahead of the rest, dropping to her knees and rifling through the pile of her belongings. Mathilda gave her sack one good heft and listened carefully to the clinks of bottles. "Sounds abou' righ'." 

"I'm surprised they didn't take you," Ayen said to the stuffed bear with the burned feet, as he poked through his pack. 

"Awww!" Ivy cooed as she looked over his shoulder. "He's adorable!" 

Ayen spun smoothly, offering up the stuffed toy to the bard with a wry grin. "This little guy has seen some trauma," the Half-Elf lamented, fingering the charred fur. "He needs... tenderness, and a warm heart to help him get back to full strength. I can't think of anyone better suited than you." 

Ivy fawned over the little bear as she took it, stroking the back of his head with her fingers as she wandered away. Ayen's eyes lit up, but before he could grab Ivy's bag in the name of 'being helpful', Mathilda scooped it up and slung it over her shoulder with a smug grin. 

"Anybody missing anything?" Val said, looking around. "Are we good?" 

"It's all here," Katsa said hurriedly, as she meticulously repackaged her vials and tinctures. 

"I gotta know," Mathilda admitted, as they started to move. "Wha' issit with you an' bards?" 

"They get people killed. Good people. You're fighting a hoard of enemies, everyone is dead, you're bleeding from a half dozen wounds, and your healer is on his last leg, but you know who was doing just fine? Standing behind you and strumming at his fucking lyre?" 

"You never have to worry about that with me," Ivy chirped. "I don't own a lyre." 

Val twitched, glaring furiously at the bubbly Bard. "Whoa, hey," Mathilda said, stepping between Ivy and the enraged Orc. 

"Stop!" cried a voice, interrupting the escalating situation. Everyone turned to see the bandits walking toward them, en masse, with a few meandering in front. Their leader, the one in the jaunty feathered cap, strode at their head. "Did you really think it would be that easy?" 

Katsa quirked her head to the side, baffled. "Why are they shuffling?" There was quite a bit of side-to-side movement among the bandits who, in addition to still being quite a distance away, did not seem to be in any great hurry to get where they were going. She swore a few might have even been capering. 

"I think the bigger question," Ayen asked quietly, "is 'how did these buffoons capture you guys in the first place'?" 

"They surrounded us," Val growled. 

"Ah might'a given 'er a hard time abou' Orcs leapin' to violence as a solution t'all they're problems," Mathilda added with a shrug. 

"Yeah," Ayen reasoned, "but what about when violence is the appropriate response?" 

The bandits, in the meantime, had taken to collectively snapping with each strut. They had made very little forward progress, choosing instead to snake back and forth like a great chorus line. 

"Ah was merely pointin' ou' tha' it set a bad precedent fer our new glorious leader." 

Ayen laughed. "Then why didn't you immediately abdicate?" 

"I didn't think of that," Val said flatly. She frowned for a moment, and then looked back at Ivy. "I abdicate." 

"Oooh," Ivy cooed, as she reached for her pen and pad. "Ab-di-cate... got it." 

The big Orc took off, charging the milling mass with a battle cry. 

"Alright lads!" shouted the lead bandit. "Let's finish this!" He and four other bandits eagerly charged out to meet Val, although there was a marked difference between the opposing parties gaits; Val was so much lethal muscle, moving like a lion toward the kill, while the bandits... frolicked. Mathilda grumbled and started to run too, but Katsa immediately grabbed her collar and shook her head. 

"Oh no," Ivy gasped. She covered her mouth, mumbling "oh no, oh no, oh no," through her fingers. 

"Wha' is it, lass?" 

"They think-" 

Val crashed into the leader, driving her elbow hard into his face with a sickening crunch, and knocking him clear off his feet. This drew an immediate, and horrified, response from the his cohorts and onlookers. 

"They thought it was going to be a dance off," Ivy whimpered. "That's how bard's 'finish it'." 

The rest of the party shrank back, wincing in shared pain at each new horror they watched Val inflict on their fleeing ex-captors. For all their practicing and choreography, the bandits had not spent any time whatsoever on actual combat training, focusing instead on intimidating jazz hand techniques. Now, faced with an enraged Orc, many of the bards realized the fatal flaw in their plan and ran away screaming. Most did not get far. 

"She needed this," Katsa stated, hoping to convince herself as much as anyone else. 

"Ah believe it's my turn then at leaderin'?" 

Ivy whimpered. "But what about-" 

"Look away, lass. Just look away." 

*** 

"Mathilda?" 

Ivy's voice, no matter how fair it might be under normal circumstances, was like a hammer, and the sun the anvil. Mathilda groaned and pulled her cloak up over her eyes. "Wha' did Ah say, lass?" she whispered. 

"Sorr-" 

"Ahhh!" Mathilda cried, reeling even further. 

Ivy winced. "Sorry!" she whispered. "Your Highness?" 

"'at's better." The Dwarf slapped her hand down repeatedly into the grass, searching. She knew she'd left... there. She couldn't squint hard enough to block out all of the light as she sat up and took a quick swig, but she also knew the pain would pass soon. "Ugh," she moaned. "No' tha hooch." She tried to open one eye just a teeny, tiny bit, and recoiled in pain. "Lass, can ye see where mah Orcish Souvet went? Green bottle?" 

Ivy frowned as she looked at the dozen bottles littering the ground around where Mathilda had slept. "Red label or white?" 

"Red." 

"Square bottle or round?" 

"Round." 

"Long or stout?" 

"Stout," hissed the Dwarf. Ivy scooped up the bottle, and made a disappointed sound in her throat as she set it gently in the Dwarf's blindly groping hands. "Issat a joke, lass?" 

"No. I think you finished it already." 

"Ah mos' certainly did no'!" 

"The cork wasn't in real tight. Maybe it spilled out?" 

"Ah would never waste a fine vintage like tha'! It's damn near sacrilegious!" 

"Well, it-it's gone now." 

Mathilda's sour expression soured further as she took another swig of her hooch. "Miserable bastard's pro'bly havin' a good laugh at this," she grumbled as she carefully resealed the bottle. "Issit midday yet, lass?" 

"Almost," Ivy said cheerily. 

"Almos'?" 

"Katsa hurt her leg." 

Mathilda grunted noncommittally and rolled up onto her feet. "Where is she?" 

"Down by the daisy field." 

Val had dragged, tossed, beaten, and chased all of the bandits out of their own camp by sundown that first day, leaving behind a sprawling trove for the five of them to pick over. In the week that followed, they were able to amass a sizable bonfire every night from the useless crap they'd found: a pile of curved arrows taller than Ayen, dozens of bolts of cloth for each of a dozen different shades of green, enough glitter glue to drown a pack animal. A fresh hell each time they went into a new quarters, or opened a new crate. 

They found two young peacocks in a pen near the back of the camp, kept for no better reason than for their feathers. According to the personal journal of the head bandit, peacock feathers were his method of choice for signifying promotions and showing favoritism, as well as denoting status among the rank and file. They found a waiting list four feet long for feathers with intended purposes ranging from 'De-Drabification of headwear' and 'Calligraphy isn't the same without flair' to 'Fan Dance Tuesday' and 'Boondoggle', although Ivy insisted the word meant something very different to bards. 

That journal included, among other things, lengthy essays on the dire economic conditions which had lead so many bards to uproot themselves for a life of fabulous crime, as well as a sonnet outlining the head bandit's thought process for the selection this particular location. Ultimately, that decision hinged on an adjacent field of wild daisies the author had found, and later made love in, during an eventful LSD trip; the details of said trip were elsewhere chronicled in an as-yet unperformed one man show entitled 'Getting Incestuous with My Inner Child'. Val promptly burned the extant copy, unread, "For the greater good." 

It was that same field of daisies that Mathilda now found herself at the edge of, her bottle of hooch half-empty and her headache half-gone. Katsa was perched atop a rocky outcropping, wincing and holding her leg. 

"Wha'd ye do to i', then?" 

"I think I twisted it." 

"Well o'course ye twisted it," Mathilda grumbled, as she looked around for the best path up onto the rock. "Yer wearin' boots with a three inch heel. What'd ye think was gonna 'appen when ye wandered into a blasted field?" She tossed Katsa the bottle of hooch, and gave the Arcanist the stink eye when she nearly bobbled the catch. 

"Actually," Katsa said sarcastically, "my thought process was 'Why don't I get that miserable healer of ours actually heal something for once'." 

" 'at's tha spirit," Mathilda smiled. "Now drink." She waited for the blonde to get a few mouthfuls down before she tried to remove the boot, but Katsa still cried out in pain. "Quit yer bellyachin'. An' nex'time, wear more sens'ble shoes." 

"They're perfectly comfortable!" 

"Less talkin', more drinkin'." 

The thin Human winced as she tipped the bottle back. Mathilda bowed her head and flexed her fingers open and shut. The feel of it, Rhogan's power flowing through her, was a blissful rush that made dealing with her overbearing God a bit more tolerable. For a while, anyway. Her brow furrowed as she passed her hands up and down Katsa's leg. 

"Lass," she said over her shoulder. "Ah need ye t'go'n fetch a bottle for me." 

"Ok," Ivy said brightly. 

"Clear bottle, white label, black cork. Fluid inside is green. Got i'?" 

"Absolutely," the Bard said confidently. 

"Don't come back until you have i'," Mathilda called, as she sat back on her heels. 

Katsa gasped as she let the bottle fall from her lips. "Is it serious?" 

Mathilda favored the Arcanist with a wry grin. "She's gone now." 

"So?" 

"So, it's jus' you an' me, an' Ah lost that bottle a while back. Ye can drop tha act." 

The Human sat up slowly, warily. "It really hurts," she said, unconvincingly. 

"Tha' warm glow a moment'ago, the one Ah put on yer leg. Ye think Ah just blast a buncha healey energy a' ye blindly?" Katsa shook her head. "Yer leg's fine. ...You know wha' mah favori' par' o' healin' is, lass?" Mathilda asked. Katsa shook her head again, slower. "It's tha checkin'." 

"I'll bite," the Arcanist said hesitantly. "Why?" 

"Pants off." 

"What? Why?" 

Mathilda's hand moved like lightning, sliding over and between the Blonde's thighs. "Will ye look't tha'... s'already wet." Katsa moaned as the Dwarf's thumb pressed in through her leggings. "Did ye think Ah wouldn't notice all this warmth here, lass?" 

"I-" She cut off in a whimper as Mathilda's thumb pushed in further, rubbing the soft fabric over her budding clit. "Oh gods..." 

"Pants. Off." Katsa rushed without question this time, hurriedly shedding her boots and rolling onto her back. As she pushed up her leggings Mathilda's hand followed along the back of her thigh, along the tendon. The Arcanist moaned. "Bit 'f a soft spot there, eh?" The Dwarf's small hands worked slowly, and smoothly, up behind her knees. Along her calves. "So sens'tive." 

"Mmmhmmm," Katsa murmured, tossing her leggings and undergarments aside. Her legs curled back down toward the rock, with Mathilda fondling and caressing them all the while. Thumbs and fingertips, pressing and probing. Another moan, louder this time, as a bolt of lightning shot along the inside of her thigh and right up her spine. 

"Ye have magnificent legs," Mathilda whispered. "Ah'm surprised Val 'adn't insisted ye wear skirts, if fer no better reason than the access." Her hands moved deliberately, applying pressure as she massaged the Arcanist's hot spots. "Top. Off." 

Katsa raced to obey this time, shedding her overcoat and deftly plucking at the binding laces of her blouse, but the Dwarf was even faster. Just as she got her top loose enough to discard, Mathilda straddled her stomach with a wide grin. She momentarily lost track of what she was doing as she stared down at the braided pubic hair resting on her pale stomach. 

"Have ye ever been with a woman besides Val, lass?" 

She nodded vigorously as she finally bared herself, and Mathilda grinned. "In the Guild halls, there was a... a girl," she whispered. She couldn't stop herself from reaching for the Dwarf's full breasts, large compared to her own. "We spent a lot of time not studying together." 

"Oh?" Mathilda blinked slowly, happily, leaning into the massaging. "So ye've seen tha inside of a muff'r two then?" 

Katsa nodded as she leaned forward, sucking one of the wide, dark nipples between her lips. The Dwarf smiled warmly as she cradled the back of her head, holding her up like a nursing babe. 

"An' did ye find tha' ta yer liking, then?" 

She nodded again, slurping loudly as she suckled from the Healer's bosom. 

"Well it jus' so 'appens," Mathilda said, "that Ah've had a bit of a dry spell. Can ye help me with tha'?" 

Katsa cried out as the hand at the back of her head took a firm grip and pulled back. "Yes," she gasped. 

Mathilda sneered as she pushed her down flat against the rock. "Yer job is easy, lass. All ye have to do is lick." 

Katsa's eyes widened as the small woman settled over her, and the daylight faded. One last clear breath before the Healer's cunt smothered her. Her nose, driven up between smooth, muscular cheeks. 

"If ye can breath easy," Mathilda sang, "yer not doin it right." 

The Arcanist's tongue drove up, penetrating Mathilda's cleft. The heavy, heady smell already had her dazed, and the older woman had barely touched her. Yet. 

"Dinnae worry, lass. Ah always pay mah debts." 

Katsa lit up, as both of her nipples were pinched, twisted, and pulled. Her arms, pinned beneath shins, were useless in trying to fend off the smaller woman. Her muffled scream drove a nearby fox from it's hole but Mathilda's legs only tightened around her head, pinning her in place. 

"Tha's it. Get deep." 

Her body writhed and wiggled, attempting in vain to get away, but there was no escaping Mathilda's hands. Her left nipple, the more sensitive one, remained firmly between strong fingers, but she moaned in relief as she felt Mathilda let go of the right. Seconds later, she felt her own lips parted, and two fingers worked quickly and vigorously over her nub. 

She groaned loudly into Mathilda's cunt, feeling more and more suffocated. Her eyes rolled up in her head as she mindlessly tongued the hole in front of her. The hole she could reach. She screamed as Mathilda delivered a hard, open-handed slap over her dripping pussy. Her nipple, twisted viciously. A world of sensation was inflicted upon her body while she could no more defend herself than she could walk on water. And she fucking loved it. 

Mathilda's fingers were a blurry haze of sloshing motion over the Arcanist's clit as she finally rose up on her knees. Katsa wheezed raggedly, her body twisting in the throes of expertly-applied pain and mind-numbing pleasure. 

" 'at's a lovely shade of red yer turnin," said the Dwarf. Katsa barely heard it. Her tongue ached to chase the hole, but there were certain requirements which her lungs refused to allow her to short cha- 

Mathilda sat back down again with a satisfied smile and delivered another ear-splitting slap over the Arcanists cunt. The resulting howl sent fantastic vibrations through her core, and she moaned as she renewed her assault on the prone flesh beneath her. She watched the tremors running through Katsa's legs. Felt the moans. Each touch and movement, a refinement of the one before as she gauged reactions and responses. The shiver in Katsa's middle. The eagerness of her tongue. The quality of her moans. All noted and cross-referenced with where and how Mathilda touched her. Fondled her. Teased her. 

The Divinist ran her tongue along the tips of her teeth as she stroked her own clit feverishly. She gave Katsa's left nipple another hard twist, relishing in the spastic jerking beneath her. " 'at's right," she moaned. "A little... to the... yeees..." 

Her hips rolled forward and back, driving her puffy lips down over Katsa's mouth. The velvety tongue inside her lapped at her walls while her own fingers worked in beautiful harmony. Struck a resonant chord on her throbbing bud. She lifted lightly, tugging upwards on Katsa's nipple, and moaned gleefully watching the girl strain to follow it. Hot air blasted between her cheeks as Katsa strained to breath. 

Mathilda smiled lazily as she called down his blessing, enjoying the simultaneous warmth as much as the way it laid out Katsa's body like a map. The feverish glow between the human's legs that pulsed in time with several other sensitive spots. She let go of the left nipple moments before delivering a precise slap to the erect pink flesh, and soaked up the petite, submissive whimpers pouring into her. "Yes," she drawled, staring down at the Arcanists brightening intensity and feeling her own swelling approaching. She refocused on her own clit, moving her middle finger with masterful deftness and bringing herself to completion. "By Rhogan's cock, Yes!" Her head rolled back, jaw jutting up toward the sky, as her legs clamped tightly around Katsa's head. "Oh, tha's magnificen', lass." 

"MmmMMMmmmmMM!" Katsa moaned. 

"No, I 'aven't fergotten ye." Mathilda slowly slid off, crawling along the rock until she was beside the panting Arcanist on her knees. 




Terrible Company Ch. 05



"Wha... wha..." Katsa's blinked bleerily, her face was deep shade of red. "I-" 

Mathilda grinned with her arms poised in the air like a conductor. One hand snuck under one of the Human's thighs, while the other hovered over Katsa's trembling, drooling sex. "Are ye ready?" 

"Ready for wh-" 

Mathilda's eyes flared as she attacked, one finger sliding along the tendons behind the knee while another applied pressure just so to the underside of Katsa's nub, and the Arcanist melted. Dissolved into a twitching mass of limbs and moans. Her eyes rolled up, half hidden behind heavy lids, as every glowing mass of pleasure lit up to the Healer's eyes. The Human's entire body throbbed in time. "Ah could watch that all day..." 

"Should I be naked too?" Ivy asked, as she stepped noisily through the underbrush. 

"No, lass." Mathilda smirked and scooped up her clothes, leaving Katsa to sunbathe and recuperate in the wake of her orgasm. "Ah'm done here, an Ah... " She blinked and stared as she pulled her breeches back up. "Where did ye find tha?" 

"Ayen had it," Ivy said brightly, holding up a clear bottle with a white label and a black cork, with just a smidgen of green liquor inside. 

"Tha' miserable thief!" 

"She looks much better," she said, peeking past Mathilda while the Dwarf slipped back into her shirt. "You must be really good." 

"Oh, Ah am," Mathilda said with a smirk, as she hopped off the rock. "Walk with me a bit now." Ivy smiled and fell in step, taller red and shorter brown. "Now, we're passin'em bylaws by majority, righ'?" 

"Yes, your Highness." 

"Nothing abou' what constitutes a majority, righ'?" 

Ivy blinked and reached into her back pocket. "I'm not sure what you mean." 

"If, suppose, it's jus' you an' me, an' Ah propose an amendmen'..." 

I've frowned in thought. "Assuming I don't vote no, then yes. The amendment passes!" 

"Ah, but even then, tha's a majority since my vote counts for more, righ'? Onna counta bein' in charge an' all. Call it 51%" 

"That seems fair." 

"Very good, lass," Mathilda laughed. "Very good. Ye got a pencil or some such?" Ivy plucked a pencil from behind her ear and nodded enthusiastically. "Good. It's time fer some new rules. What're we up to numbers-wise?" 

"The next amendment would be..." Ivy thumbed through her yellow notepad. "Ooo! 40!" 

"Ok. Write this down then. Proposed amendment. Concerning piggyback rides."



Terrible Company Ch. 06



This age has already seen its climactic battle. Four years ago, a ring of necromancers rose up. The might of the dead grew with every battle, and was poised to sweep the world under its cloak. In these dark times, a group of heroes made a daring strike at the heart of evil, and the great enemy of life toppled. The world is now coming out of a long period of mourning. Every living creature owes a debt they cannot repay to five brave souls. 

This story is not about those heroes. 

*** 

Ivy scratched her chin with the nail of her thumb, deep in thought as they rode. "So, I think that, since I'm the new leader, I shou-" 

"Whoa," Val said. "Just, whoa. First of all, way too soon." The others nodded in solemn agreement. Everyone but Mathilda, anyway. The color had not yet returned to the dwarf's face nearly a full day later. She merely sat quietly in her saddle, staring ahead without seeing. "Second of all, you're not in charge. We didn't vote on that." 

"Everyone else got to try being in charge. Weren't we were taking turns?" 

"We kinda were," Katsa whispered through the side of her mouth. 

Mathilda's reign, days longer than Val's but well short of the Arcanists, had come to a sudden and inglorious end that none of them were yet willing to speak of (and would only refer to in the future as 'The Piggyback Incident'). Her wanton abuse of power had resulted in her immediate removal from office. Ayen had refused to accept an authoritative role, abdicating immediately, four times, before the matter was dropped. 

"We're not putting her in charge," Val said flatly. 

"In charge of what exactly?" Katsa gave her a rueful grin. "Just let her have it." 

"Fine," Val relented, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm gonna go scout ahead." She kicked her heels into the sides of her enormous horse, and the great beast lurched ahead. 

"That's an excellent idea!" the buxom redhead said brightly. "I approve!" 

"Not looking for your approval," Val shouted angrily, as she trotted off. 

"I better be careful," Ivy observed, as she pulled out her pad and quill, "or all this power is going to go to my head." 

"It's certainly going to go somewhere," Ayen added. 

Ivy turned to look at Mathilda, but felt comfortable making that judgement call all on her own. She started making notes on the yellow paper. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "That reminds me. When we stop, I need to get some hats." A minute passed in almost-quiet. 

"What are the hats for, exactly?" Ayen could barely contain his giggles. 

"Well I'm pulling double duty as President and Secretary now, and I don't want there to be a conflict of interest." 

Katsa pinched her nose in disgust, while Ayen continued to titter. "And the hats will help how?" 

"I thought wearing actual hats might help me keep the roles separate," she explained calmly. "I'll have a presidential hat and a secretarial hat." 

"Well," Ayen interjected, "secretaries sometimes wear skirts. Perhaps we could get you a few skirts instead. That would probably be cheaper." 

"And I would... switch skirts every time I changed roles?" 

"Exactly!" 

Ivy looked up to the sky, deep in thought, while Katsa internally disavowed herself of the entire conversation. Suddenly, Mathilda cleared her throat loudly, making sound for the first time that day. "We'll get ye some 'ats, lass." 

"Oh! Good," Ivy said with a relieved smile. "I wasn't sure if that meant I needed to start wearing underwear again." Ayen buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Look at that! Two executive orders in the books before lunch! I'm gonna make a great president!" 

*** 

The trees around her swayed slowly and Val sighed. "Yesterday, you told me the answer was ahead of me, but today it's behind me? How about a straight answer for once!" To that, there was no response, and Val hung her head. "Sometimes I think I'm doing this wrong." The wind shifted, and Val's ears immediately perked up. Her horse, an irritable stallion who resented her presence on him as much as he enjoyed the exercise after so long cooped up at the Bandit camp, perked up as well. 

She sniffed. Humans. Almost on top of her. She schooled herself, forcing her very best warm smile, as the forest thinned ahead. Two men in shoddy, ill-fitting chainmail stood just beside the road ahead, their pikes leaned back against their shoulders. 

"Evening!" she called, as she and her horse broke clear of the tree line. Both guards turned and nodded... and Val sighed as she watched their casual stances turn martial. Pikes moved forward, their points arcing toward her to bar her path. Both men moved to the center of the dirt road. 

"Where you headed, stranger?" the first guard asked, his rounded belly ready to burst through his protective covering at a moment's notice. 

Val frowned and looked around. "This is the road to Gahlston, ain't it?" 

"And what kind of business would an Orc have in Gahlston?" 

"Just passing through," the big Orc sighed, suddenly feeling much more like a sitting duck from up there atop her unruly mount. "Looking for someone I know." 

"They ain't here." The first guard paused to spit before continuing, "Maybe it's best you turn around and head back the way you came." 

"Look. I don't want any trouble-" 

"You got any papers for that horse?" the second one chimed in. 

"Papers?" Val answered incredulously. "Of course I don't have any papers!" 

The first guard frowned in an unsurprised fashion. "There's been some theft in the area recently." 

"Some folks been seein' someone lurking about." The second one was practically drooling with excitement. "Filin' reports of a suspicious person matching your description. 

"My desc-" Val took a deep breath. "You mean green?" 

"There's no call to make this a race thing, ma'am." 

"My... ugh." Val rolled her eyes, hating to admit it out loud. "My party is right behind me. They'll t-" 

"There's more of them!" the first guard said hurriedly to the second one. "Signal for backup!" The second guard immediately ran back down the dusty street flailing his arms. Val lifted her head and groaned in frustration; the guard house was neither small nor far. "Ma'am I need you to dismount the horse right now." His body language was practically screaming at her. 

"No," Val scoffed. "I have every-" 

"She's resisting arrest!" the first guard screamed. "I need backup now! Tell'm we've got an irate Orc!" 

"Okay! Fine!" Val bit down hard on her tongue as she swung her leg up over the saddle. 

"She's reaching for a weapon!!" 

"Oh come on!" she shouted. 

"What's going on here?" a new voice demanded. 

Val's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as another rider emerged from the forest behind her; one she hadn't heard coming and had gotten between her and the rest of the group. She ground her teeth as she weighed the risk of turning her back on so many guards to find out who might be behind her, but the steady clop-clop of hooves on hard-packed road mercifully took the choice out of her hands. The rider slowly passed around her on her left. 

"You should stand back, M'lord. We'll handle this one." 

"Yes, she does look very dangerous." It took Val a moment to catch the dry, sarcastic tone. "It's a good thing there's ten of you." 

"Right you are, Sir, but I need you to clear the field of engagement straight away!" 

"What's the charge, then?" The rider moved past her, and Val chanced a glance in his direction. Human, male, with shoulder-length dark blonde hair and a subtle smirk she thought she might be the only one understanding right now. 

"We think she might be the one been stealin' them horses, Sir." 

"I didn't steal it," Val growled. "The horse is mine." She tried to think of a more elegant way of saying she'd procured it from Bandits she'd thoroughly maimed and beaten with her bare hands, and decided it might be best to end it where she had.  

"Exactly what a horse thief would say." 

"I can put this to bed right now," said the mysterious rider. "All the horses missing in the area either are mine or were, and that isn't one of them." 

The guard was unfazed. "All the same, sir, I think it's best we take her back to the holding cell and make su-" 

"That won't be necessary, Captain," the rider said pointedly, sitting up a little straighter in his saddle. He was tall and, she had to admit, ruggedly handsome. He was at least 30% chin. And tall! Fuck... Almost as tall as her? Maybe... it was hard to tell while he was mounted. "I'll escort her into town myself." 

The first guard gawked, his mind racing to recover. "M'lord!" Val smirked as she awkwardly remounted her stallion and followed after her timely benefactor. 

"Thank you for your diligence, Captain!" The man rode slowly, clearly comfortable in the saddle. Val gave him an appraising look as she caught up and rode alongside him 

*** 

"Oh no," Mathilda groaned, as they and their horses ambled toward the small mining outpost of Gahlston. "Dwarves." A troup of them marched across the street ahead, going from one establishment to another. 

Marched is perhaps too strong of a word. 

"Finally!" Ayen exclaimed. "Someone your own size to pick on!" 

"Didn't think we'd find Dwarves this far south," Katsa mused. 

"Oh these aren't Dwarves of the 'true' Southern Kingdom," Ivy said, miming air quotes. "They're all dead. Those," she pointed for clarity, "are resettlers." 

"Criminals," the Divinist snarled. "Outcasts an' buffooons." 

"Do you like anyone?" Ayen asked. 

"Lemme pu' it this way," she answered, finding some of her old voice. She held up her thumb. "Ah don' like Dwarves. Unruly, ungrateful, an' stubborn." Index finger. "Ah don' like Southern Dwarves even more. Ridiculous numbskulls. The Necromancers did us a kindness by riddin' the world of 'em." Middle finger. "First thing these degenera' ingrates did was appropriate an entire dead culture withou' the sligh'est sense 'o digni'y!" She stared daggers down the road. "One'f em found a corpse that'd had a birdcage slammed onto 'er head as 'er town was razed. Suddenly, there's a whole village of these gene pool trespassers wearin' cages as 'ats!" 

"G'day, mates!" one of the dwarves said cheerily as he passed them in the street. 

Mathilda turned, fuming, to Katsa, her short arms held straight out at her sides. " 'oo talks like tha'?!" They both shook their heads as they rode on, although for different reasons. "Look't 'em. Like a flock o' cows blitherin' about." 

"Herd," Katsa corrected. 

"Heard what?" 

"Herd of cows." 

" 'course Ah heard o' cows," Mathilda scoffed. "Are ye daft? Think Ah don' know what cows are jus' because Ah grew up under a mountain?" She continued to mutter under her breath about the pervasive racism she faced on a day-to-day basis simply because she was a Dwarf, while Katsa sighed, missing the cultured conversations and learned debates of the Arcanist Guild and not for the first time. 

Val's towering stallion wasn't hard to find, staked out near the road at one of the only two inns in town. Mathilda shivered in disgust at the common room full of drunk (and disorderly) Dwarves, and bore a sour expression as they made their way to the table where Val was seated. "Wha's she doin' with 'er face?" 

"I think she's smiling," Katsa said with a smirk. 

Mathilda glared up at the Arcanist. " 'ave you ever known that grea' lump 'o muscle to smile?" 

Katsa rolled her eyes... but no. No, she hadn't. 

"Ah ha!" laughed a mountain of a man seated next to Val. At least, he would have appeared so next to anyone other than Val; as it was, he was just shy of being her equal. "The rest of your party has arrived!" 

Katsa, Mathilda, and Ayen stopped and looked at each other, but Ivy happily stepped forward and extended her hand. "Hello," she said brightly. "I'm Ivy, Party President." The fabric of her shirt groaned fearfully as she leaned forward. 

"You were not kidding," he whispered to Val with a smirk. He vigorously returned the handshake and gestured to the empty chairs around the rest of the table. "Please, everyone! Join us!" Ivy wasted no time picking a comfortable-looking chair, while the others continued to stare at Val in quiet disbelief. For her part, Val... Katsa had to blink before she knew what she was seeing. Val was most definitely blushing. Ayen settled into a chair opposite the newcomer, while Katsa and the Dwarf moved to the last of the empty chairs. "I am Jerrod, first of House Clayborne. My family owns most of the land in the area, as well as the mountain these good dwarves are hollowing out one shovel-full at a time!" 

Everyone looked sideways toward each other, trying to sort out who would handle question answering before Ivy took it upon herself to speak for them, but she removed herself from the equation politely to go and have a private word with the innkeeper. 

"So Val tells me you just rid our fair town of a problem before it had a chance to rear it's ugly, yodeling head?" 

"I think they mostly were into show tunes," Val said thoughtfully, as she took a sip of her lager. 

"Ugh," Jerrod groaned. "Was there a lot of jazz hands?" 

"Yes!" 

Val and Jerrod shared a frustrated groan, and immediately began swapping war stories about Bards. 

*** 

"And, I'm telling you, the minute- the second, that room was clear, that's when when he finally hit the high note." 

Val laughed and dabbed at her eye. They just managed to get themselves composed as Ivy was returning. 

"I spoke with the Mistress of the house," Ivy said with a sly grin, "worked a little Bardic magic, and secured some lodgings for the night!" 

"How?" Katsa asked flatly. "We don't have any money. Like... at all." 

"Once all the dwarves clear out," Ivy said, very proud of herself, "we just need to straighten up a bit and we'll be allowed to sleep by the fire!" 

Ayen arched an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. "So what you're saying is that you signed us up for manual labor." 

"Not much!" Ivy said brightly. "And then we'll be out of the wind tonight!" 

Katsa and Ayen sulked in their chairs. Val barely heard a word of it, absorbed as she was in pretending not to notice how Jerrod was staring at her out of the corner of his eye. Mathilda frowned at all of them. "Ye did good, lass." 

"Thanks!" Ivy preened in her chair. "Oh, and some rabbit stew should be out in a bit for dinner!" 

Val smiled. "It'll be just you guys. Jerrod has invited me to dine with him at his estate tonight." 

"But," Jerrod added, "how about a round of ale to go with that stew for the rest of you?" 

The Bard and Mathilda perked up at the mention of a bit of alcohol to go with what could be the best meal they'd had in weeks. Katsa and Ayen frowned suspiciously, but Val was ignorant of all of it. There was a table full of attractive people (by her reckoning, anyway), and Jerrod was looking at her. 

*** 

"Whoa," Val said, as she stepped through the massive front doors of the main house. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" 

Val stared curiously at the vast, open space. "It's so... sparse." 

"I know," Jerrod said, with an air of pride. "Don't you just love the clean lines of it?" 

"Sure," Val reasoned. "Very spartan." 

"Who?" 

"Nevermind." Val shook her head dismissively, and tried to focus on something else as they walked. "I really like the-" 

"I just," he interrupted, talking right over her, "feel like so many members of the quote-unquote nobility get so caught up in the trappings of wealth, and it makes me sick. Who needs all that crap piling up?" 

"Not me," Val agreed quickly. 

"Cleaning this place out was my first order of business when I assumed control of the family." 

"I can totally see that," Val said, nodding as she followed him down a side hallway and into the main part of the building. Part of her was shocked at her insipid behaviour, but mostly she was just excited. Excited and more than a little horny. Jerrod was a full axe handle across the shoulders. She shivered. 

*** 

"You're dying to ask, aren't you?" 

Val paused, spoon halfway to her mouth, and stared. She was. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

Jerrod smiled as he chewed on a bit of the duck they had prepared themselves. "You're wondering why there's no servants. Why we had to make the dinner ourselves." 

Yes. "No. I assumed it was like you were saying before? About trappings?" 

"That's part of it," he mulled, "but it just felt so lazy having everything done for me, you know?" Val nodded in agreement as he continued. "During my time serving in The War, I just... I don't know. I got used to roughing it." He gestured around at the huge room with his fork. "This was all so... soft. You know, after." 

"I totally get that." Val's eye twitched as she caught herself rushing to agree with him. Again. She gave herself a shake, trying to come back to herself, but it was getting harder and harder. "Where did-" Val cut off with a squawk, her voice high and entirely too girlish. She hit herself hard in the center of her ribcage and cleared her throat roughly. "Did you do most of your fighting around here?" 

"I was one of the lucky ones," he said, after taking a sip of his wine. "I didn't have to trek it out to the front line; the front line came to me." 

Val thought for a moment. "So that was near the end, then?" 

"No," Jerrod said with a thoughtful smile. "We held out here for months." 

"Months?! In one place?" 

He nodded. "Right when the dead started knocking on our door, who should show up but Orcs. Three full legions. We managed to save half of Gahlston, and they stayed to help rebuild the other half. Gained quite a bit of respect for them and their culture." He paused, and added, almost as an afterthought, "Your culture. But enough about that." Jerrod leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself. How did someone as beautiful as you end up with such an unglamorous job?" 

Val blushed, causing the green in her cheeks to lighten considerable. 

*** 

"I think you're really going to like this," he said over his shoulder with a grin, as they stumbled down a long, undecorated hallway. "I've got quite a collection." 

"The suspense is killing me." 

Jerrod just flashed another grin as he placed his hands on the handle of the door at the very end, and Val felt a flutter pass through her middle. "You're the first one I've ever shown it to." 

Val flinched for a moment. "First one what?" 

Jerrod stretched out the moment, grin widening as he kept her in suspense just that much longer, before throwing open both doors and proceeding inward with both arms held out at his side. Val followed behind him with her eyes widened. 

She stood stunned, staring at the room. A crude recreation of a Varghul Orc hut stood in one corner. An ogre war banner was draped over a goblin mating totem amid a pile of various tribal weapons. The room was a hodge podge of misplaced and appropriated culture that left Val wincing 

"Take me." Jerrod turned around in slow motion, spinning and backing toward the bed with a hungry grin. 

"Wait," Val uttered incredulously. "What?" 

His eyes lit up. "Claim me as your war trophy, you savage brute!" 

Val's expression darkened as she looked past him. A leopard-skin bra and loincloth lay alongside a heavy wooden club on the bed. Her mind... reeled. "That's what I'm here for?" 

Jerrod beamed with pride as he hefted the club. "Carved this beauty myself." A wooden club. Val didn't even know how to respond to that. He turned to her, offering her the handle. "Want to try it out?" 




Terrible Company Ch. 06



Then she realized she did know how to respond to that. 

Val made to reach for the club, but instead grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward her. His grin widened, thinking this was going to go a different route right up until the moment her fist connected just below his ribs. Jerrod fell to his knees, his face comically stretched out as the air was driven from his diaphragm. She drew her left arm back, high above her shoulder, and it came crashing down with every ounce of her frustration along for the ride. Jerrod twisted ferociously, hit the ground with a hard thud, and didn't move. 

She grabbed the loincloth off the bed and tied it tightly around his ankles, then did the same around his wrists with the top. Shoving the handle of the club up into his ass was no small feat, but she felt much better having gotten it in there as she stormed back into the night with two of his wine bottles in hand. 

*** 

"A new player 'as entered the game," Mathilda announced, in her most announcer-like voice, as Val sat down at the table. 

"She's on my team," Ayen said quickly. 

"Fine," Mathilda snarled. "Yer gonna need all the 'elp ye can get!" 

"We might need to move out sooner rather than later." The big Orc set her empty wine bottle down hard on the table. The other one lay in fragments by the wall outside the Clayborne estate, where she'd hurled it after guzzling the contents. 

"Ah take it yer tryst di'n't go as planned then?" Mathilda waved to the beleaguered gnome tending the bar and ordered a few more rounds. Val merely shook her head. " 'ow soon?" 

"First light should be fine." She looks around that the score of empty mugs and frowned. "How do you do a team drinking game?" 

"We'll take turns," Ayen slurred. He blinked exaggeratedly, and took a moment to focus his eyes on her. "Maybe you should take the next few." Val harrumphed; the Dwarf didn't appear to be affected at all. Her instincts were telling her they needed to leave right then, but... 

*** 

"Ashaaamed!" Mathilda repeated, as she hovered over the table. "Yer whole greeny race should be ashamed!! Ah had a ten round 'ead start, an' yer only drinkin' ev'ry other!" 

"No I'm not," Val insisted angrily. 

"Yes you are," Ayen reminded her. 

To his credit, the Half-Elf had hung in there, but it was all about to end one way or the other. Val fought to think straight through her drunken haze. She needed a... something. "What the..." 

"Wot?" 

The big Orc reached her thumb and middle finger down into her mug, and pinched them together on the surface. "Whatthefuckisthat?" 

"Ah don'..." Val lifted her hand and extended it over the table, middle finger pushed tight against the pad of her thumb. "Wot am Ah..." Mathilda peered blearily at her thumb, eyes crossing as she got closer and closer. 

When she was in range Val unleashed her coiled middle finger, flicking the Dwarf just above the bridge of her nose. 

"Ahh!" Mathilda squawked, pressing her hand to her forehead and sitting back in her chair. "The fuck was 'at?" 

"A..." Word. Come on, word. "Coup de grace?" That was maybe it. 

The shorter woman pulled her hand away and squinted at her palm. "Ye made me bleed." Mathilda pushed a finger against the tiny wound and muttered under her breath. When her finger came away clean, she fixed Val with a wavering stare. "Ah take it this means ye forfeit?" Val reluctantly nodded, and Mathilda chuckled as she wobbled off of her chair. "Suckers. Ye shoulda... shoulda..." 

Ayen and Val each winced as the Healer fell to her side and hit the ground with a terrific thud. Both of them toyed with the idea of getting up to check on her, and accepted her buzzsaw snoring as proof of life. Ivy and Katsa, having already done the bulk of the cleaning work, had passed out hours ago. 

"If she doesn't remember that," Val warbled, "I'm counting it as a win." 

"Yeah! Yeah!" Ayen yelled drunkenly. "You-" 

The big Orc cut him off with a hand against his chest and a grin. "What are you trying to do? Wake everyone up?" 

Ayen's eyebrows rose up onto his forehead. "Oh," he whispered. "Uhh, right now?" 

Val's grin darkened. "Right here. Right now." Her chair scuffed loudly across the wooden floorboards as she scooted back from the table, the pronounced bulge becoming even more so as she unlaced the bindings on her breeches. 

"His loss," Ayen slurred, as his fingers fumbled at the waistband of his own. Val grabbed the tail of his shirt and dragged him between her legs even as he was lowering his leggings. Her other hand squeezed tight on her shaft as it struggled to stand up on it's own. Two quick pumps pushed enough lube out through her clit to grease a pig, and it oozed down the sides and onto her fingers. "Aww, did he put you away w-w-wet?" 

"Idon'twannatalkabouthim," Val growled. Ayen stood between her legs, staring down at her heavy shaft, and grinned. His own cock, a couple inches longer and already at full sail, was half as thick at best, and he was no slouch in that department either. He gave a quivering gasp as she grabbed his shirt again and spun him around to face away. 

"Oooooooh that's nice," Ayen squealed quietly, as she shoved two dripping fingers unceremoniously up into his ass. His hips moved with a mind of their own, grinding back against her palm while his ring clenched and grabbed at her knuckles. 

"Sit on it," she rasped, her voice low and guttural. Ayen couldn't stop himself from blushing while he reached back to guide himself toward her. He pinched his eyes tightly shut as he felt the slick, fully-engorged head press against his pucker. "Do it already." 

"I'm going, I'm go-uuuuuuuuh!" 

Val sneered as she took firm grasp of his hips and thrust up out of the chair, loving, as she always did, the sight of the the pink tip disappearing inside of someone else. "Gotta do errrything," she mumbled. She pulled him closer to her, her shaft sinking deeper into his back door, before lowering back down into the chair. 

"Slooow," Ayen whined. "Fuck! It's like fucking a horse!" 

"Yo- you ever fucked a horse, Elf?" Val sucked her lower lip in between her large canines and bit down hard as she watched his amazing ass take inch after inch of her. The very edge of his ring darkened as it stretched around her. 

"I've fu-uuuuuuck!" Ayen groaned as the going got tougher. "I fucked a centaur once," he wheezed. 

"Me too," Val sang, as she pulled the Rogue down fully onto her lap. She leaned forward, her bound breasts pressing against his back as her chin dug into his shoulder. "Clever line." 

"Wha-Oh!" Ayen winced as her hands clamped down on his waist, and lifted him slowly up into the air. "Oooooh!" 

"Hadda say something." Val leaned back, tilting her head so she could watch her shaft sliding back out of his asshole. The dark green crossfading to pink. Ayen whimpered quietly, and his shoulder twitched. "Areyou... touchin'yerselfrighnow?" He whimpered again and nodded. "Tease." 

"Slower," he whined, as he looked back over his shoulder; his delicate features, twisted in excruciating pleasure. "Fuck! Slower!" 

"Nope." They groaned in unison as Val brought him down hard into her lap, her shaft squelching loudly as it burrowed into his cavity. The muscles in her arms flexed and bulged as she lifted him up, only to bring him crashing back down into her lap. Up, and then down hard. Up, and then down hard. Squelching louder each time as her shaft continued to ooze fluid into his ass. 

"Fuuuck!" 

"Shut up!" she hissed. 

"I ca..." Squelch. "I ca..." Squelch. "I ca..." Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. 

Val lurched up out of her seat, throwing Ayen forward over the table in front of her. Her hand came down around his neck, pinning the side of his head against the well-worn oak. "I said be quiet." 

Ayen moaned as she worked her shaft in and out of him, finding a smoother rhythm. The table screeched across the floor after a hard thrust, and Val twisted like an owl; Ivy stirred, but that was it. Mathilda and Katsa didn't move at all. 

"Don't stop," Ayen groaned. "Fuck, don't stop." 

"Wild centaurs, my little cuntsleeve." Her hand entwined in his hair, fisting and yanking back until his neck bent nearly 90º. "Wild centaurs." 

"Yes!" Ayen whimpered. "Yes!" 

Her hips rolled faster, a smooth circular motion that neither hilted nor withdrew. She sucked air in through gritted teeth watching his beautiful ass take her over and over. "Fuck," she wheezed. 

"Pull harder!" 

Val happily obliged, wrenching upward until his back arched inhumanly. "Take it," she rasped. "Take it." 

"I'm gonna cum," Ayen wheezed. "I'mna... I'mna...fuck... fuuuck!" 

Val grabbed the closest pitcher she could get to with her free hand. She reached it around underneath the table as she hilted, corralling Ayen's cock in the mouth of it and sliding the makeshift cum-catcher up until she was sure. Ayen's dark walls clamped hard around her as he came, milking even more of her lube with the spasmodic waves of his climax. She could feel a wet spot on her breeches, bunched down around her thighs, and knew it meant she was dripping everywhere. She gave it a few more seconds before lifting the glass pitcher back up and setting it down on the table in front of Ayen. He squealed and twitched with every movement, and then moaned long and low. His cum was one long swirl layered throughout the translucent amber, slowly descending to lay along the bottom.. 

Her grip slowly loosened from his hair, and Ayen settled back down against the table. His fingers found purchase in nicks and grooves in the aged wood as she started up again, grunting only softly as she bore into him again. Faster. Harder. His mouth hung open as she railed him, screaming in silence as the big Orc steadily brought herself toward satisfaction. Val grumbled underneath her breath, snarling as the tension built in her core. Her fingertips bit into the flesh of his hips, thumbs reaching inward to spread his ass cheeks. As the tension swelled. The thickest part of her shaft, at the very base, sliding in and out of his gaping hole with ease. 

Val stood up straight as she came, rising up on the balls of her feet. Ayen rose with her, his ass rooted around her shaft and his hips held in the vice of her fingers. His feet dangled in the air while he clung desperately to the table. They stayed like that for nearly half a minute, the Half-Elf hanging from her grasp, before she slumped back down to the ground. 

"Fuck," Ayen whimpered, as she pulled out of him and fell back into her chair. A deluge of thin juices followed her out, splashing as much onto their boots as on the floor. Val stared raptly at the yawning gape of his ass while he wheezed, bent over the table and panting. It was tempting to go searching for things to shove in there just for fun. The ring twitched lazily with every breath he took, struggling to shrink itself back down to size. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." 

"You keep... you keep..." Val shook her head from side to side, trying to clear out some of the fuzz. "You keep that up and we jus' might." 

"You can't threaten me with a good time," he sang softly. His knees threatened to give out as he crouched down to grab his breeches. "Damn... that big bag of dicks really got you all torqued up, huh?" 

"I said I don't wanna talk about it." 

"I think I've-oooooo," he groaned, straightening and pulling them up over his hips. "..earned a little info, right? I mean, you did takeitoutonme." He had to put a hand on the table to steady himself. 

Val rolled her eyes with a sigh, grabbing a pitcher. "Yes. He did. 're ya happy?" 

"We gotta strike back." Ayen nodded gravely, his whole body wobbling unsteadily with the force of his nodding. 

"I 'lready did," she said evasively. 

Ayen slumped backwards into the table. "Ooo! Whadja do?" 

"I don't wanna talk about it." The fire burned low beside them, casting a deep orange light across the room. Ayen frowned in thought, and then staggered over to Katsa's pack. "Wha're ya doin? Dontouchthat." 

"I got it," Ayen drunkenly dismissed. "I just wanna see if she has anymore'a them combustible lemons." 

"Combussable... why?" 

"So we can-" 

"I know what they're for," Val argued irritably. 

"Well then you know why I'm lookin' for 'em!" Ayen made a dissatisfied noise as he closed up the Arcanists pack. "Arright, c'mon," he whispered as he staggered toward the door. 

"What? Noo," she whined. 

"C'mon," he repeated over his shoulder. 

Val grumbled as she lurched up out of her chair. "I said I arready toocare of it!" 

" 's's fer yer own good," he slurred, as he weaved out the door and into the night. 

*** 

"This is a bad idea," Val whispered, as they stumbled through the dark. They rolled over the low walls surrounding the Clayborne mansion, and tumbled into the sparse grass on the other side. "We are way too drunk for this, and we don't need to be sneaking! There's no guards!" 

Ayen spun around, jabbing a finger in her direction. "Listen, warrior-woman-person; if we get into any fights, I'll gladly hide while you take care of it, but this is thiefing! I'm the thief! Do what I say!" 

Val nodded, acquiescing to airtight logic, and crouched low behind him as they stalked from cover to cover. "Isn't it pronounced 'thieving'?" 

"I'm not talking to you." They scampered across the lawn to duck behind a well. "I gotta admit; I'm a little shocked this didn't go off between you two." 

"I am too," Val slurred. "Things were going along great until he showed me his little sex hut." 

The Half-Elf peered over the top of the low stone. "Didn't take him for a whips-and-chains type." 

"No. Ugh," Val groaned. "It was all Orc stuff. Had special clothes for me to wear and everything. He wanted me to..." 

Ayen fell back into a crouch and stared at her in the dark. "...to..." 

She sighed. "Claim him." 

"Like, as a dependent?" 

"No," the big Orc said flatly. 

"Oh. Ooooooooh!" Ayen giggled and covered his mouth. "He's a BGC slut!" 

"A what?" 

"Big gree-" 

"You know what? Don't finish that." This time, both of them peered up and over the stone wall surrounding the well. "Can we go already?" 

"Yeah, but before we get over there, you need to change how you're walking." 

"What's wrong with my walk?" 

"Well you're kind of scurrying. When we get right up next to the building, I'm gonna need you to skulk." 

"What's wrong with scurrying?" 

"It's bush league is what it is." Ayen shook his head. "I could lose my good standing if anyone else sees me with someone who was scurrying." 

Val smirked disbelievingly. "You have good standing with someone?" 

The Thief pressed his hand over his chest and gasped. "I have feelings, you know. If you prick me, I bleed." 

"Didn't see any blood earlier." Both of them descended into drunken snickering, while frantically waving their hands at each other in an attempt to get the other one to stop making so much noise. "You're gonna get us caught!" 

"No, you are!" 

"No, you are!" 

This went on for a bit, each slowly raising the volume of their voice until they were quietly screaming at each other. A deer cracking a dry twig several hundred yards away finally snapped them out of their bickering. "How much did we drink?" Ayen asked, after a few moments pause. 

"All of it." Val muttered. He nodded, but tripped as soon as he tried to get up to skulk away from the well. Val cackled and trailed after him as he limped up to the wall of the main house. "Still having trouble walking?" 

"Well who's fault is that?" he fired back. "And stop scurrying." 

"I could be doing cartwheels," she laughed. "There's no guards." 

"Nooo, no way." Ayen shook his head as he skulked along the wall, testing each of the windows they passed to see if any of them were unlocked. "That just means they're crafty. Noble families have wealth. Wealth needs to be protected. Protection means guards. It's simple economics." 

Val gave up trying to match his skulking and merely walked along behind him in a most un-stealthy manner, although it could be argued that a 6'5", 270 lb Orc is incapable of doing anything stealthily. "Wait. Thieving?" 

"Thiefing," Ayen corrected. "And yes." 

"Yeeeeah, he doesn't really have much in the way of... stuff." 

"That's fine," Ayen said, gasping happily as one of the windows responded to his delicate probing. "We'll just help ourselves to some of his gold." 

"Yeeeeah... I didn't get that 'hoard of gold' vibe from him." 

"Slaves?" Ayen asked hopefully. "I could really use a good slave." 

"Yeeeeah... no. Also, ew." 

"Don't judge. I have needs." Ayen poked his head through the window, and tumbled through onto the floor. "Do you know how long it's been since I got a good deep tissue massage?" 

"Yeeeeah..." Val shook her head. "I can't fit through that window." 

The Thief scoffed and extended his hand. It took nearly a full minute of him pulling, and her pushing, and them both grunting loudly, before Val squeezed through on the other side. "Ivy gives a really good massage," Val said, as she got up on her hands and knees. "She just gave me one yesterday." 

"What?! When?" 

"When we were bathing." 

"Every time I try to get near her, that fucking Dwarf gets in the way." Ayen shook with quiet rage as he got up and looked around. "Wait, you were bathing?" 

"Yeah." 

"Were they nice?" he asked, cupping his hands against his chest. 

"Oh yeah," Val said with a chuckling nod. "Yeah, very nice." 

Ayen turned, staring through the wall in what he thought was the direction of town. "That woman is my white whale." 

"Your what?" 

"Nevermind," Ayen said, as he skulked across a sparse parlor. "You don't think they're fucking, do you?" 

"I don't think her species can mate with whales." 

"Not the whale! Mathilda!" 

"Oh!" Val thought for a moment. "Yeah. They are most definitely fucking." 

"I knew it!" 

"Good for her." 

"Can we all just stop using pronouns with this group? There's too many women. I can't ever keep track of who 'her' is." 

"Right, uh... Good for Ivy, I meant. Dwarves are something else in the sack." 

"And what, Elves are just good for passing the time?" Ayen slowly pulled the door open, and peeked his head out into the main hallway. "Whoa, I thought you were just kidding, or... fuck, I don't know! This place is empty." 

"Yup." 

"Well I really don't want to spend all night at this, searching through every damn room, and we're not leaving empty handed." Ayen turned back into the parlor and cast his eyes about. "That." 

"That what?" Val scoffed. "That rug?" 

"We're taking this." he said, as he knelt down grabbed the ends of the thick blue and purple cloth. 

"Who steals a rug?" 

"It's not just about the rug, it's about sending a message." 

"What message?" 

"The message is 'don't fuck with my friend'." 

Val rolled her eyes. "Can we at least not go back through the window? I was really worried I was going to get stuck." 

"And now you know you won't!" He smiled as he tucked the neatly rolled cylinder of fabric under his arm. "Ladies first." 

Val grumbled under her breath as she slouched over to the window. She squirmed through a second time, and was sitting upright with her legs splayed when Ayen came through a moment later. "I was going to let him," she said softly. 

"Let him... what?" 

"Be my first." She stayed down on the ground for another few seconds, and sniffled loudly. Ayen took a deep breath and blew it back out slowly through his nose. He felt right, even justified, as he turned and hurled the rolled up carpet back through the window, shattering it. The crash was enormous, ringing out in the house and across the grounds. 




Terrible Company Ch. 06



Val rolled away, panting and clutching her chest. "What the fuck did you do that for?" 

"Had to send a stronger message," Ayen slurred, as he extended a hand to her. Val took it with a nod, and hauled herself up to her feet. There was still no alarm being raised of any kind within the spacious building as they drunkenly stumbled back toward town. "Are you sure he didn't mean as a dependant?" 

Val rolled her eyes. "I'm positive." 

"If he was having tax problems, that would explain some things." 

*** 

"You two look pretty ragged," Katsa said with a chuckle, as they rode out of the far side of Gahlston. Val grunted wordlessly, barely upright in her saddle, and Ayen managed only slightly better. 

"Ah told ye Ah'd take care'f it." Mathilda looked vastly more like herself, although she was as uncomfortable as ever on the back of her pony. "Dunno why yer so se' on wallowin' in the pain." 

"To remind myself not to let this happen again," Val whined. 

"Did you heal yourself?" Ivy asked, leaning over as she rode next to Mathilda. 

"A bit of the hair of the dog was all Ah needed." She burped, and pressed her hand to her chest. "Human's are ok in my book, but you lot make shitty beer." 

Ivy nodded and looked back over her shoulder. Ayen was bringing up the rear, and was surprised when she slowed down. "You actually look... much better than either one of them." 

"I don't feel better," Ayen mumbled. He recoiled as she leaned in close to stare at his face. 

"That's weird," she said. "Normally, when you drink, your eyes get a kind of glassy texture to them. Shiny. Today, your eyes look sharp. Just... tired." 

"Wow, that-that-that is weird!" 

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't drink at all last night." 

Ayen gave a weak laugh. "Well, it's a good thing you know better." 

"I suppose it is!" Ivy smiled brightly, and stirred her horse forward to catch up to Mathilda.



Terrible Company Ch. 07



The massive beast's screeches cut off in a wet, strangled gurgle. Val reared back and brought her axe down again, severing the final head with a sickening crunch. Mathilda slumped forward, bracing her hands on her knees and dropping her warhammer entirely while she caught her breath. For the first time in what seemed like forever, it was quiet. If only for a second. 

Katsa groaned as she looked around and shook her head. "She's not here." She dragged out 'here' into two syllables. Hee-urr. 

Ivy tucked her mandolin under her arm and frowned as she inspected her fingers. "I cracked a blister." 

"She's supposed to be here." The Arcanist pursed her lips in irritation. 

"Fuck," Mathilda wheezed. " 'ow can she no' be 'ere?" 

"I don't know!" Katsa turned, taking in the relatively featureless walls of the dead end cave. "She's very clearly anywhere but here. See, this is us, here," she said, pointing to the ground, "in the place she's supposed to be, but in reality, she's in one of an infinite number of other places that are not here." 

Val sighed as she walked around the sprawling corpse. "Does anyone know where the stomach is on this thing?" 

Ivy immediately perked up. "For which head?" 

"I don't know," she replied, shrugging incredulously. "Ayen, get out here." 

"The two heads on the left have a stomach on the right. The two on the right share a stomach on the left. The middle two," she said, grinning as she built up to her point, "have a stomach located almost entirely in the tail!" 

" 'ow do ye know tha'?" Mathilda shook her head, still panting. "Strike tha'. Why do ye know tha'?" 

"Bard Rule #6; It's always better to know, unless it's not." 

"Ayen!" Val cried. "Which head bit off your hand?" 

"I've always wanted to do this," he laughed weakly, as he staggered out of the shadows at the far end of the cave. "It was the ugly one!" 

Val stared at him flatly. "Do you really not know?" 

He paused to wet his lips. "I think it was one of the center heads, but it was dark and I sort of stopped paying attention to which head was doing what when it took off my hand!" 

"Silver linin' though," Mathilda added thoughtfully. "Yer Friday nigh's are open now." 

The Rogue narrowed his eyes. "Very classy to pick on the cripple." 

"Oooh quit yer bellyachin'," the Healer laughed, as she fished around in her pack. "Ye'll be fine in a minute." She uncorked one of her green bottles and gave it a sniff and a swig before handing it to him. "Drink." 

"Not in the tail," Val announced, thick blood already covering her arms to the elbow. 

Katsa looked up from inspecting her torn breeches, and cleared her throat. "If you're going rooting around in there, the livers of Hydra are very useful." 

"Not a Hydra," Ivy said, wincing as she flexed her bruised finger. "Six heads makes that a Hairon." 

"Hairon livers are just as good," the Arcanist said, shrugging as she twisted to stare down at her thigh. "Maybe a few scales too?" 

"Anyone else want a souvenir," Val growled, "while I carve up this very warm, very fresh corpse?" 

"I'll take a few hairs," the Bard said brightly. Mathilda took her hand and muttered for a few moments, enveloping both of their extremities in a soft glow. Ivy gasped happily as the glow faded, and flexed her fingers. "Oh that's much better." She nodded and played a few chords on her mandolin experimentally. 

"Oh good," Ayen sniped. "I'm so glad you were able to treat her blister. I was worried it was going to be fatal. I'll just sit here with my mangled stump, then, shall I?" 

"Not in the left stomach," Val announced. The cavern echoed with the twitch-inducing sounds of bones being snapped as she dug further. 

Mathilda scoffed and turned to Katsa. " 'ow 'bout you, lass? Looked like it got yer leg er'ly on." 

"Wait... Wait... Here it is." The Orc's lips curled as she rooted around the Hairon's innards with her dagger, carving and dissecting. 

"I'm fine," Katsa said dismissively. "Just snagged my pants. Worry about him." Mathilda raised her eyebrows in mild shock, but after a moment she turned back toward where Ayen was vigorously imbibing. Katsa ran her finger up and down the smooth skin of her thigh, brushing away dried flakes of blood. 

"False alarm! Just a rat." Val puffed out of the side of her mouth, blowing a few stray black hairs up and out of the way. "Ew. Still alive." A few more seconds of wet, squishy rustling. "Oh... Theeeeere it is." She tossed the hand to Mathilda and returned to her work. 

"Oh gods," he whined. "It's all chewed!" 

"It's off, ye dumb bastard. D'ye think Ah can't handle fixin' a few nibbles too?" 

Ayen grimaced as he held up his wrist. "Whoa, Whoa! Stop!" he shouted, when she placed his partially-digested hand against the stump. 

"Do ye want yer hand back or no'?!" Mathilda shouted. 

"You're holding it backwards!" 

The dwarf frowned. "Left 'and makes an L... right?" 

"I'm facing the other way!" 

"Ah..." The Divinist blinked and laughed sheepishly. "Aye... but it'd make a fine tale a' the tavern." 

"Why don't you save the drinking until after you've put my hand back." 

She shrugged him off, closing her eyes and setting to work. Ayen kept one eye firmly planted on his wrist as he upended the bottle. The light around his hand brightened, intensifying rapidly while Mathilda murmured under her breath. Katsa shivered, feeling a tickle at the base of her neck. She could feel Rhogan reaching into the room. Could sense his presence. 

"There ye go," Mathilda said, staggering backwards. "Good as new." 

Ayen blinked. "That's it? A little mumbling, a few lights, and I'm healed?" 

"Ah'm sorry, were ye expectin' a meal with yer show?" A dangerous edge crept into the Dwarf's voice. "A bit o' dancin, perhaps?" 

"No, I just..." He looked around beneath a furrowed brow. "I don't trust that it was that easy." 

"First 'f all," the healer roared, "it wasn't easy. Ah jus' make i' look 'at way. D'ye ken how many bones and tendons are in a hand? Ah coulda made it far worse-" 

"Or, you know, put it back on backwards," Ayen mumbled dourly, flexing his fingers. 

"Second of all," the dwarf continued, studiously ignoring him, "yer welcome!" She shook her head, muttering under her breath about basic decency, and scooped up her warhammer. "Are we done 'ere?" 

Katsa traded her canteen for the bloody, dripping liver, immediately wrapping it in an embroidered cloth and sliding it whole into a jar while Val rinsed off her arms. "I'm good," she said, and Val nodded in agreement. 

Ivy whimpered as she followed the rest of them back the way they'd come. "I broke a nail on the other hand." 

*** 

"No more," cried the old man strapped to the rack. "Please, no more!" 

The torturer grinned wickedly beneath his hideous mask and shook his head. "I'm afraid not, my good man." He dragged the tip of his rusty, blood-crusted blade along the old man's chest, leaving a pink line in it's wake. "I'm only just beginning, and Mr. Tickles hasn't gotten to play yet at all!" In the corner of the room, a huddled man-beast thrashed at his cage at the mention of his name. 

"Actually," said a young woman as she stepped smartly through the door, "he's free to go." 

"He hasn't given up his secrets yet." The torturer turned slowly, his voice filled with mad glee. "It would be such a shame to bring our games to an end before that." Mr. Tickles rattled ravenously at the door to his cage in guttural agreement. 

"I'm sorry, Reg, but-" 

"It's The Tailor!" Reg took two fast steps across the room and leaned in close to whisper harshly. "How many times do we have to have this conversation, Gabby? It undermines what I'm trying to do here when you stroll in and use my name! I have an image to uphold!" 

"I know," she intoned softly, holding one hand up placatingly while the other held a clipboard tightly to her chest. "The last thing I want to do is tell you how to run your department, but... it's bad news. We're going to have to close the facility, effective immediately." 

He blinked incredulously. "Larry, get out here." 

Mr. Tickles settled down in his cage and tilted his head. "What?" 

"Get out here," Reg barked. 

Larry reached his arm between two of the bars and fingered at a secret release on the top that popped the whole thing wide open. "What's this then?" he asked when he joined them, as he rolled his shoulders to stretch them out. 

"They're shutting us down," Reg said. 

"What?!" 

"It's not like that," the young woman calmly said. "You two kept this department in the black, and that's something to be proud of, but unfortunately, that doesn't justify continued operation here. We just got word that some adventurers broke in and killed the Hairon." 

"Why would they do that?" shrieked the taller man. 

"Why do adventurers do anything?" she replied, rolling her eyes. "But you two both know that selling the Hairon eggs was the bread and butter of this facility. With that gone, there's really no feasible way to keep this place profitable." 

"Fuck me running," Larry whispered hoarsely. 

Reg ripped off his faux-flesh mask, leaving his sweat-matted hair a gnarly mess. "So what are our options?" 

The HR rep sucked air through her teeth and shook her head. "We only maintain Torture Departments at two other locations, and they're both full up right now." 

"Excuse me?" the old man whimpered. 

"You know I have a family I'm providing for, Gabby." 

"I really am sorry. The whole thing is a messy business but..." The HR rep offered the beast a sympathetic smile. "...I'm sure you'll end up on your feet,". 

"So what... we're just fired? Is that it?" 

"I know, guys. I'm sorry. This was a huge shock for all of us." 

The man on the rack piped up again, "I can go now then?" 

"Do we get any severance?" 

"You knew that torture was a cutthroat industry when you signed on-" 

"And the wife is pregnant with a litter... what am I going to tell her?" Larry sighed, rubbing his furred snout. "I should have transferred to The Hell Hole. Six months ago, remember? They had an opening?" 

"You made the right decision at the time, mate. The school system here is incredible, and you couldn't have known." Reg shook his head emphatically, as if sheer willpower could reverse the course of fate. "I don't accept this. We must have some kind of recourse." 

The old man craned his neck to try and look at the three. "...I'd really like to get going if it's all the same." 

Gabby shrugged indecisively. "You could always file a grievance, but I can already tell you that the language in your employment contracts shields the ownership from adventurer-related losses. I..." She took a breath and made compassionate, direct eye contact. Just like her training had said to. "I really am sorry." 

Reg stood there, stunned, as the HR rep turned and exited the room. Larry snarled and ripped the peg board, upon which all their tools hung, off the wall. 

"Now now," Reg said, focusing hard on the floor. "There's no need to be destructive." 

"Of course there is!" The furry man-beast grabbed a sack and started shoveling the scattered scalpels and hammers into it. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Well I'm not leaving here empty handed." 

Reg grinned. "Alright then. Give me a hand with the iron maiden." 

"That's the spirit!" 

As they walked out, carrying a load of nefarious tools and equipment between them, the old man slumped in his chains. "I'll just stay here then... Don't mind me." 

*** 

"Mathilda," Ivy intoned. 

"Wot?" 

"No more looking for secret doors, remember? We passed a resolution." Ivy tapped her yellow notepad for emphasis with one of her unbroken fingernails. 

Mathilda pulled her hand back from a suspicious-looking torch handle with a harrumph. "We're never gonna make anything. An' don't gimme tha' tripe about breakin bones bein' worse than breakin' even. Ah can 'eal bones, but Ah can't 'eal purses." 

"I just want to be done," Katsa mumbled drearily. "I used up, like, all of my prepared spells." 

"Dun ye just make more?" 

The Arcanist sighed in frustration. "Yes, and I will. It's just going to take days. It would be one thing if all that effort had been worth it, but..." She trailed off in a sigh. 

"Perfidy!" Ayen shouted, holding up his deck of cards. "Perfidy!" 

"Perf...what now?" 

The Rogue angrily shuffled the cards against his chest, cut the deck once, and withdrew the card of the Rabbit Prince, with his broken sword held up in the air. "See?" 

Everyone stared at the card in confusion. "What does that mean?" Katsa said. 

"Perfidy means disloyalty," Ivy offered brightly. 

"I know what Perfidy means!" 

"You didn't see that?" They all shook their heads. Ayen grumbled as he reshuffled the deck, cut it once, and withdrew the Rabbit Prince card. "See?" 

"No one has any idea what you're doing right now," Val said, folding her arms across her broad chest. 

"It was slow! A full one-sixteenth-of-a-second slow!" Ayen glared, his eyes ablaze. "You healed me wrong." 

"It's a card trick, lass. Ah think yer overreactin'." 

He growled, reshuffling and cutting the deck once again. "There, see? Slow!" 

Val leaned toward Katsa and mumbled, "Did that look slow to you?" out of the side of her mouth. The Arcanist merely shrugged. 

"And stop calling me Lass." 

"Stop bein' so pretty," Mathilda fired back. 

"You're a better drunk than a healer!" 

"Fer fucks sakes," Mathilda groaned. "If yer so unhappy with it, I'll take it righ' back off then." 

"Oh, you'd like that! Wouldn't you!" 

"Why in all the hells would Ah want a one 'anded thief fer a party member?" 

"Because you can't handle the competition!" 

Mathilda sputtered. "The compe... the fuck're ye talkin' abou'?" Ayen glanced at Ivy. Then Mathilda turned to look at Ivy. Then everyone turned to look at Ivy. Ivy, who was certain they couldn't be looking at her, turned around to look behind herself. "Oh. Oh, Ah see." 

"I don't," Ivy said, staring at the bare wall. "Is this some kind of metaphor?" 

"So..." Mathilda took a step toward him, grinning widely. "Ye think that we're competin'?" 

"I'm usually pretty good at figuring out metaphors." Ivy peered closer at the wall, looking for hidden meaning. "Is there something special about this wall?" 

"Bringing her on was my idea," he growled. "I had dibs." 

"Dibs?!" the Dwarf laughed. 

"Oh," Ivy said, staring curiously at a brick with no mortar around it. "There is." 

"No!" Val shouted, looking up, but it was too late. Ivy pressed the brick. Everyone paused as the room around them filled with the sound of stone grinding against stone. Suddenly, a massive slab slammed down from above, dividing the room in half and leaving Ivy trapped. Faint shouting came through from the other side of the wall. 

"I'm okay," Ivy gasped, as she ran her hands over her body and found all of her bits exactly where she'd left them. "I'm okay." She flinched when a bit of dust landed on her eyelashes, and when she looked up, the ceiling began to descend. "Oh..." 

Her mind raced through the various Bard rules, immediately discarding the 137 that dealt specifically with deepthroating or oral sex. "Come on, Ivy," she said out loud, to herself. "You've got this. Let's show that mage the power of Bardic Magic!" She unstrung her lute and unleashed a blistering solo laden with alternating arpeggios and power chords. Music filled the increasingly smaller space, only to be met with silence as the ceiling shuddered to a halt. A terrible groaning rumbled through the walls and floor. "Put that in your pipe and smoke it," she cried with a triumphant leap. The buttons in her shirt whined as she landed. 

"-completely underappreciated," said a tall man to his much shorter and furrier companion as they walked through a well-oiled secret door behind Ivy. "Artists like us, mate, we're never understood in our time. None of them upstairs get what we're doing down here. To them it's all pulled fingers and guts nailed to the floor, but... oh..." They drifted to a stop when they finally saw her. "I'm sorry. Who are you?" 

"That's Peggy," the shorter one whispered. "From Accounts Payable." 

The taller one whistled. "They weren't kidding." 

"Oh no," Ivy said. "I don't work here. My friends and I, we just broke in and... um..." She trailed off as their expressions hardened. "... um... brought you a singing telegram?" She flashed her widest, brightest smile and brandished her lute, but they remained unamused. 

"It's one'a them," grumbled the shorter one. They set down their heavy, clanking bags, and walked away from each other, circling her in opposite directions. "What an interesting turn of events." 

"You appear to be lost." The taller one's voice was smooth, like milk flowing from a cup. "This is a dangerous place to be all alone." 

"I'm not alone," Ivy said cheerily. "My friends will be right back." 

"They're not here now," the Tailor growled. 

One of The Maestro's lectures on the subject of perception vs reality, delivered during a particularly lengthy blowjob, bubbled up from the murky depths of her memory. "No, but you're here. So technically, not alone." 

"Don't you know who we are, little girl?" 

Ivy thought for a moment. "Artists?" 

"No! Well... yes... but..." He rolled his eyes in irritation. "I am the Tailor. My associate," he said, gesturing, "Mr. Tickles, and I think you might be misapprehending our purpose, little bird." 

"It's not to kill me, right?" 

"In our line of work, a quick death is a waste of a perfectly good body." 

"Oh good!" Then the Bard frowned. "...I think." She gasped, shocked, as Tickles grabbed her from behind, snaking his arms around hers and pinning them behind her head. "Ow! Hey!" 

"I think a bit of fun is in order first." 

"Oh thank the gods," Ivy sighed, visibly brightening. "You do mean sex, right?" 

"Not in the consensual meaning of the word," the Tailor said, grinning. "No." 

"Ooh! Rape play!" 

"We're not playing," the taller one said meaningfully. 

"Got it," Ivy said, squirming helplessly in the shorter man's arms. He drove his knee forward into the back of hers, and Ivy squealed as she tumbled forward. "Help! Help!" 

"That's right, little bird," the furry one grunted. "Sing!" 

"That was more of a 'damsel in distress' voice," Ivy huffed, still laboring not insignificantly to free herself from the man behind her. "If you'd like, I could-" 

"What you can do," The Tailor sneered as he unfastened the waistband of his leggings, "is to open your pretty little mouth very wide." 

Ivy moaned as The Tailor withdrew his cock from his pants, twisting left and right in overly-enthusiastic futility. "Just so you know," she squeaked, "my safe word is Unicorrrrgh!" 

"Don't think we'll be needing your safe word," the furry one laughed. 

"Fuck," the taller one cried, as Ivy swallowed his rod to the hilt. "Was not expecting that." Ivy blinked up at him, her eyes wide and questioning, but nothing escaped her lips beyond a bit of drool. "What are you doing? Stop that!" The Tailor put both hands on the top of her head and held her in place as he rammed his cock into her throat a second time. 

"What's she doing?"