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Description

Chapter 1 (continued)

    The night they were all to meet, when Mac's brilliant plan to seduce Charity into his bed,… uh band,… was to take place, there was a bit of a crowd at the Wayfarer Tavern in Farston. And as adventuring groups tended to go, several of the rest of Mac's nascent company were in attendance when all Hell broke loose. The issue that began the whole row was the presence of an otherwise unwanted individual in the crowd. In fact, she was damned hard to miss. Well, damned hard not to notice. Her fighting skill was, as it turned out, something that made her literally easy to miss. The conflict arose when a certain totally uncouth, loud mouthed, smelly, and overly rude (and drunk) Pouarr Elf Barbarian took exception to the presence of a Half-Orc in an establishment in the Pouarr Nation.



    Mac watched with interest, and more than a little lust, as the Pouarr, a good head shorter than the Half-Orc, decided to berate the strangely attractive female and made fun of her rather too Orcish tusks. Mac was actually a bit surprised at them himself. Most Half-Orcs didn't inherent their Orcish parent's tusks. If they did, they were often more Orcish than human, with brow ridges and unsightly facial features. Outside of her oversized lower canines, this Half-Orc woman was actually somewhat luscious. In fact, her body would put most human babes to shame,… huge tits, perfect figure, rippling muscles. Mac decided then and there, she might be six foot three, but she was definitely worth the climb.



    The Pouarr clearly disagreed,… or if he did, he thought challenging the Half-Orc to a fight was the way to win her heart. That was possible. Mac had heard a lot of strange things about the Orcs of the Khangan Empire. Now that they were allies with almost everyone in the Western Alliance, those rumors and stories had begun to spread faster than the Hermaphrodite's legs. But this Half-Orc? There was something off about her, something more than her luscious good looks and to-die-for body. When she finally gave the Pouarr the time of day, it was anything other than what Mac had expected. Her Carellonian was perfect, no accent, well, not much of one. Her way of speaking was a bit formal, a tad tilted towards the matter-of-fact speech of true Khangan (probably her second language). Mac could barely hear what was being said between them, but her skill at belittling the Pouarr was clearly having its effect, as in less than a minute he had grabbed a bottle and swung it at her head.



    The fight quickly devolved into a furball, as everyone in the place seemed to have a pent-up hatred for at least four or five other assholes in the bar. By the time Mac managed an escape from the brawl (so there would be no mistake that he was in anyway involved and therefore subject to investigation of his identity and thus revelation of his criminal record) Philonia had decided to stop the source of the fighting. Somewhere in the confusion, flying chairs and bottles, screaming bar maids, and strange Pouarr war cries, Philonia had snuck up behind the Pouarr and the Half-Orc, cast a Charm Monster on them (just in case), drug them to a back room and cast a Ménage a Trois. By the time she was done with them, they were both embarrassed to admit they'd had multiple orgasms and the time of their life. However, from that day forward, when the Half-Orc and the Pouarr weren't fighting (either bad guys or each other), they were fucking (usually each other).



    Seeing the insanity they had brought to her performance that evening, Charity was incensed. She was ready to throttle the Houlifar on principle alone, though he clearly had nothing to do with the fight getting started. Eventually managing to convince her that they needed to find his companion and escape out the back before the authorities arrived, the two stumbled upon the Herm, the Half-Orc, and the Pouarr in flagrante delicto. The Bard, despite her own exceptional magical skills, talents at erotica, iron will and self-control, was also a raging hypersexual. The scene was more than she could stand (having a particular kink for orgies and gratuitous public displays of sex and nudity). Mac had his opportunity to finally pound the busty Bard. That evening, they left quietly as the fight was slowing to a low rumble off in the distance and found themselves back at Lady Philonia's hotel room to continue. The next morning, embarrassed or not, they agreed to sit down and talk about a future of working together. First, they needed proper introductions.



    The Half-Orc was quick to explain her blood steel armor as a gift from a distant uncle and not the sign of any service to the Khangan Empire. In fact, RanaH daughter of Gavvan, had been raised in Carellon by her mother, with an occasional visit from her father, who was a Khangan soldier working at the embassy in Syvasgaard. Her path was one of service and patriotism, service to Carellon and the Western Alliance. Her education was at the hands of a knight of the realm and a Paragon of the Carellonian Church, thus she too was a Paladin. Her preferred weapon, something that allowed her to make good use of her size and strength, was a magical Great Sword in the Carellonian style. Her mother, Sister Mandolyn Farstone, was a Militant Cleric of Aphrodite, thus her willingness to engage in any and all sexual escapades, and partially responsible for her good looks and stunning figure.

Description

Chapter 1 (continued)

    The night they were all to meet, when Mac's brilliant plan to seduce Charity into his bed,… uh band,… was to take place, there was a bit of a crowd at the Wayfarer Tavern in Farston. And as adventuring groups tended to go, several of the rest of Mac's nascent company were in attendance when all Hell broke loose. The issue that began the whole row was the presence of an otherwise unwanted individual in the crowd. In fact, she was damned hard to miss. Well, damned hard not to notice. Her fighting skill was, as it turned out, something that made her literally easy to miss. The conflict arose when a certain totally uncouth, loud mouthed, smelly, and overly rude (and drunk) Pouarr Elf Barbarian took exception to the presence of a Half-Orc in an establishment in the Pouarr Nation.



    Mac watched with interest, and more than a little lust, as the Pouarr, a good head shorter than the Half-Orc, decided to berate the strangely attractive female and made fun of her rather too Orcish tusks. Mac was actually a bit surprised at them himself. Most Half-Orcs didn't inherent their Orcish parent's tusks. If they did, they were often more Orcish than human, with brow ridges and unsightly facial features. Outside of her oversized lower canines, this Half-Orc woman was actually somewhat luscious. In fact, her body would put most human babes to shame,… huge tits, perfect figure, rippling muscles. Mac decided then and there, she might be six foot three, but she was definitely worth the climb.



    The Pouarr clearly disagreed,… or if he did, he thought challenging the Half-Orc to a fight was the way to win her heart. That was possible. Mac had heard a lot of strange things about the Orcs of the Khangan Empire. Now that they were allies with almost everyone in the Western Alliance, those rumors and stories had begun to spread faster than the Hermaphrodite's legs. But this Half-Orc? There was something off about her, something more than her luscious good looks and to-die-for body. When she finally gave the Pouarr the time of day, it was anything other than what Mac had expected. Her Carellonian was perfect, no accent, well, not much of one. Her way of speaking was a bit formal, a tad tilted towards the matter-of-fact speech of true Khangan (probably her second language). Mac could barely hear what was being said between them, but her skill at belittling the Pouarr was clearly having its effect, as in less than a minute he had grabbed a bottle and swung it at her head.



    The fight quickly devolved into a furball, as everyone in the place seemed to have a pent-up hatred for at least four or five other assholes in the bar. By the time Mac managed an escape from the brawl (so there would be no mistake that he was in anyway involved and therefore subject to investigation of his identity and thus revelation of his criminal record) Philonia had decided to stop the source of the fighting. Somewhere in the confusion, flying chairs and bottles, screaming bar maids, and strange Pouarr war cries, Philonia had snuck up behind the Pouarr and the Half-Orc, cast a Charm Monster on them (just in case), drug them to a back room and cast a Ménage a Trois. By the time she was done with them, they were both embarrassed to admit they'd had multiple orgasms and the time of their life. However, from that day forward, when the Half-Orc and the Pouarr weren't fighting (either bad guys or each other), they were fucking (usually each other).



    Seeing the insanity they had brought to her performance that evening, Charity was incensed. She was ready to throttle the Houlifar on principle alone, though he clearly had nothing to do with the fight getting started. Eventually managing to convince her that they needed to find his companion and escape out the back before the authorities arrived, the two stumbled upon the Herm, the Half-Orc, and the Pouarr in flagrante delicto. The Bard, despite her own exceptional magical skills, talents at erotica, iron will and self-control, was also a raging hypersexual. The scene was more than she could stand (having a particular kink for orgies and gratuitous public displays of sex and nudity). Mac had his opportunity to finally pound the busty Bard. That evening, they left quietly as the fight was slowing to a low rumble off in the distance and found themselves back at Lady Philonia's hotel room to continue. The next morning, embarrassed or not, they agreed to sit down and talk about a future of working together. First, they needed proper introductions.



    The Half-Orc was quick to explain her blood steel armor as a gift from a distant uncle and not the sign of any service to the Khangan Empire. In fact, RanaH daughter of Gavvan, had been raised in Carellon by her mother, with an occasional visit from her father, who was a Khangan soldier working at the embassy in Syvasgaard. Her path was one of service and patriotism, service to Carellon and the Western Alliance. Her education was at the hands of a knight of the realm and a Paragon of the Carellonian Church, thus she too was a Paladin. Her preferred weapon, something that allowed her to make good use of her size and strength, was a magical Great Sword in the Carellonian style. Her mother, Sister Mandolyn Farstone, was a Militant Cleric of Aphrodite, thus her willingness to engage in any and all sexual escapades, and partially responsible for her good looks and stunning figure.