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Words In This Update - 2256
Total Words So Far - 25506
Those were my thoughts as I lay there, my other eye stinging and crying, bulging out and turning almost as red as the blood coming out of my hole. I tried to focus in on Lock, found myself waning hard, and collapsed to the ground below me, The Marshal toppling over and spread near me as if he had been torn up, too. The sound of clashing claws and embers slowly becomes more faint in my ears, and I finally pass out.
Do you know what you dream about when you're dying? A summoning. Bathed in a sense of warmth and light. It was beckoning me, calling me, and I wanted to reach into it. It was comforting and felt like it could ease all my pain if only I could grab hold of it. Once my fingertips reached it and dipped in it like one would cupping water out of a lake, a beautiful, pale face spread before me. The figure had smokey, silvery eyes and her hair was white as quartz. Something about her seemed motherly. Her features were pointed and immaculate, with well rounded ears and a soft, assuring smile. A hand, silken and firm, reached out and grabbed my fingers, pulling me up. The figure before me stepped out a bit more, naked and swirled in a golden aura just giving her enough modesty to be presentable and command respect, even with such perfectly formed tits, standing several feet taller than most any mortal being I knew of. Wings tinted with blue flame danced behind her, and her hands formed a soothing red energy about them, placing it on me, pulling me in and placing her lips on mine. It wasn't one of romantic or lustful notion, but there was love in it, as she danced across my body and traced it with her hands, re-energizing me slowly. All I could ask her was who she was, though I think I already knew.
“Wake up, you insufferable douchebag, and pray in my name I don't have to wake you again. Next time won't be so warm. I only did this because of the immense faith and stock you've placed in me in your long life. Now get, there's someone special waiting for you.” she says, voice ringing with perfect pitch, sitting back in a large throne and kicking one foot up over the other, giving me a cocky smile and blowing me a kiss.
Next thing I know I'm bolting awake inside of Kattu's wagon, herself still very drugged and slowly poking a bandage she placed over my empty socket. There's a needle in her other hand, sticking it in my arm as she laughs a bit and drools. Suddenly, I fall back down and blink slowly, feeling woozy but painless, the feeling leaving my fingertips as I lazily grope myself. Wow, sure is funny having no depth perception. I go to touch what I think is a canteen of water, only to find something soft and round in my hand instead. Huh, that's funny, I think to myself. I didn’t remember my drink ever feeling pillowy. Probably because it was Lock's right tit and not my drink. It's a damn good thing I didn't insist on drinking from it to test it, now isn't it?
I stared up at her. Or well, as best as I could. What with the one eye and the drugs making me hazy and all. Lock's tongue ran across her lips in a filthy manner, blushing and acting like a girl who had just run through puberty getting her first crush, squealing at me. “Oh, boss elf, Lock didn't know you cared like that! Wouldst thou like to drink from Lock? Or perhaps Lock could offer you a drink from her other cup?” lifting her loincloth and peering at me with lusty eyes. “Perhaps you'd like another kiss? Seems Lock's first one woke up your sleeping beauty self just fine.”
My brain broke and my head began to ache harder than it had been at the moment of injury. She kissed me? That was her lips I felt, and not Laeshann's? The longing and love I felt wasn't a motherly goddess and her excellent tits, but a fucking dragon bitch? Kill me now. I prayed for death again and nothing. I bet Laeshann is in cahoots with Lock now. It would explain the oddly sandy, leathery taste in my mouth, though. There was some remnants of metal on my tongue, too, but I couldn't be sure if that was from my own blood or all the fucking pyrite Lock ate while we were in the mines. Either way, my innocent elven purity was plucked away from me, having kept any of my scant few kisses to other elves. Gone. I'm a traitor to my kind now.
I looked at Kattu, groping around for that water and my cape. The Marshal too! Where was he? He and my cape were bloodied and set nearby as to not stain anything, waiting to see if I wanted to clean them or not. The medicine girl picked up her canteen and poured it all over my face, dribbling it down my throat and giggling. I asked what she was on this time, and she just said it was a small dose of what I got. Why should I hog all the fun, after all? I slowly got to and decided to look Lock in her stupid face and ask what happened, wiping my mouth onto my arm and snorting. Nothing would ever be enough to clean myself after knowing her tongue violated mine.
The ironic fool of a brother of hers is dead now, apparently. While she and the one called Yukina were tussling and having a good old fashioned sibling shout out, he kept trying to interfere and take the spotlight. Or sat on the side critiquing them and their fighting work yet refusing to show them how it was done. What a whiner. So they took him by the horns and wrapped his dinky sweater vest around his neck, snapping it, saying there's the stupid scarf he wanted so bad. At least it's something all of us can agree on having been a good outcome of this. After that, she roughed up Yukina so badly and locked her in with the elders to await her fate. Which is the only reason she's wandering around alive now and not in chains or dead is because she turned her own sister in and carried me back here. She could stay free so long as she was near me and had someone watching her just in case. A sort of probation, I guess. She had rounded me and my things up, put me on her back, and flew me out. Said I should at least have the chance to fly once before I died, even if I wasn't awake for it. Why was she being so nice to me? After all I've done to her, you think she'd have beaten me around like one of the dune cats bats at its dinner or some such. She just went and put on that dumb teen girl act again and squealed more, giving me an answer I'd not expected.
“Lock like boss elf! Stupid, hot headed, stubborn. Easy to tease, to get to react! Much funnier than Lock's dumb old family and dead brother. Besides, boss elf was going to make a plane that looks and acts like Lock! Lock wants to see this and make sure it's named after her in big, bold letters!” she hissed. Is she confessing her love to me? What in the name of the Embers. I woke up and found myself in one of those terrible romance novels you see brothel hookers reading in between clients. “Lock saw you wriggle in your sleep groaning about someone's perfect bosom and wanting kisses to bring you back to life, so Lock complied! Least she could do for boss elf!”
Gross. Gross gross gross. Last thing I needed in my life was the enemy falling in love with me.
“Lock sorry she faked being drugged for boss elf. Just not strong enough to control Lock, but you were having fun, Lock didn't want to ruin it. Besides, much better pay and meal plan than if Lock had gone back with Yukina. Lock guesses she's just too lazy to be a proper dragonkin. If it means being on a leash or taking bad drugs, Lock don't care much, just so long as she gets to quest and eat greasy meats! Pet, friend, slave, at least Lock lives by her own rules! Now Lock tired, gonna take a nap. Talk to your elder when you can sit up, too, okay boss elf?” With that said, she curled up outside the wagon and took a nap, where she still stands now. There are signs of wounding and bruising on her, but a sadistic smile lay spread across her stupid face.
Kattu then helped me sit up and offered me more water, giggling and scratching at her ears like a cat would. “Ohh, someone's in love! Shall I get the book of Our Lady out and marry you two lovebirds right now so you can go home after the war and start and egg nest and name them all after me or do you need a minute to let this all settle in?” Dammit woman, she's the only one in love, if anyone is. Just sounds like a stupid case of falling for your captor in an effort to ensure your freedom. I'm not buying that load of 'happier here' garbage. Heard it all too many times, especially from bards. A harpy bard once told me this, and wound up stealing my lunch when I wasn't looking. I should have known that the worst person ever imaginable would be a dirty sandwich snatcher. I just told Kattu to settle down and focus on keeping us both hydrated. At that point, I wasn't sure that it wasn't just a fever dream brought on by pain and enormous amounts of drugs.
That's when the medicine woman got it in her rotten noggin to reach over and kiss me, too. Does a wounded, bloody, sweaty, drooling, high little mechanic elf just turn everyone's damn slits on around here or something? Did I miss a memo? I just blinked and stared, asking her what she's on about now. “Seemed like a good idea. Wanted to see what Lock was on about. Maybe someday, if you do wind up saving us, I can always brag to my future kids about how I got to steal a kiss from a legendary heroine! They'll think that's pretty cool. I know I think it is. Why, do you want another? Something more? My, I could never, I'm more innocent than that! Go ask your girlfriend to do so! I'm not that kind of doctor! I'll gladly give you both a sample of my latest aphrodisiac though if you'd rather...” Oh by Our Lady this is the worst suggestion I think I've ever heard, my head dizzying again and me falling back down to the makeshift cot I was on.
I'm so very very happy and thankful to Laeshann that I passed back out right then. I don't care what put me to sleep, but the last thing I needed to know of was intimate details of an intimate tale penned by a drugged up medicine woman. Save that for your circle of friends that won't judge you, or at best, your own journal and mind so I never have to see or hear of it, even in whispers. I know there are cults out there that get their delights off writing insipid tales about their role models and friends, putting them out under terrible pseudonyms for the world to enjoy, all of them laughing behind our backs. Things we'd never do to each other, usually our worst enemies. I bet Kattu is the ringleader for the Stormlock tribe's archives of such tales. I honestly wouldn't put it past her already having put out tales in secret regarding Lock and I. The mere thought makes me nauseous. Either that or it's my meds.
At least I'd be ready to face the elders in the morning, having gotten a fuckload of sleep, drug induced or otherwise. The Marshal and my cape would be in working order again by then, and would be my first priority to clean up upon waking. Visions of naked goddesses and dragons chasing me dancing through my head as I lay and have water fed to me every now and again, my eyesight still entirely fucking with me. I just hope what they have to say isn't anywhere near as frightening as what I just had happen to me. Nothing could possibly be worse than a dragonkin wanting to lap at my loins or my medicine girl imitating her and then putting it out in story format for the world to mock me with. I bet she portrays me wildly out of character anyways and nowhere near as heroic and gorgeous as I ought to be. Isn't that always the way?
-Basira Nejem
Dated dawn of the eighth day of the third week of spring in the year 367 in which I guess is the number of eggs in the clutch Lock and I have together in all the terrible stories written about us in the grand archives of Razan
Total Words So Far - 25506
Those were my thoughts as I lay there, my other eye stinging and crying, bulging out and turning almost as red as the blood coming out of my hole. I tried to focus in on Lock, found myself waning hard, and collapsed to the ground below me, The Marshal toppling over and spread near me as if he had been torn up, too. The sound of clashing claws and embers slowly becomes more faint in my ears, and I finally pass out.
Do you know what you dream about when you're dying? A summoning. Bathed in a sense of warmth and light. It was beckoning me, calling me, and I wanted to reach into it. It was comforting and felt like it could ease all my pain if only I could grab hold of it. Once my fingertips reached it and dipped in it like one would cupping water out of a lake, a beautiful, pale face spread before me. The figure had smokey, silvery eyes and her hair was white as quartz. Something about her seemed motherly. Her features were pointed and immaculate, with well rounded ears and a soft, assuring smile. A hand, silken and firm, reached out and grabbed my fingers, pulling me up. The figure before me stepped out a bit more, naked and swirled in a golden aura just giving her enough modesty to be presentable and command respect, even with such perfectly formed tits, standing several feet taller than most any mortal being I knew of. Wings tinted with blue flame danced behind her, and her hands formed a soothing red energy about them, placing it on me, pulling me in and placing her lips on mine. It wasn't one of romantic or lustful notion, but there was love in it, as she danced across my body and traced it with her hands, re-energizing me slowly. All I could ask her was who she was, though I think I already knew.
“Wake up, you insufferable douchebag, and pray in my name I don't have to wake you again. Next time won't be so warm. I only did this because of the immense faith and stock you've placed in me in your long life. Now get, there's someone special waiting for you.” she says, voice ringing with perfect pitch, sitting back in a large throne and kicking one foot up over the other, giving me a cocky smile and blowing me a kiss.
Next thing I know I'm bolting awake inside of Kattu's wagon, herself still very drugged and slowly poking a bandage she placed over my empty socket. There's a needle in her other hand, sticking it in my arm as she laughs a bit and drools. Suddenly, I fall back down and blink slowly, feeling woozy but painless, the feeling leaving my fingertips as I lazily grope myself. Wow, sure is funny having no depth perception. I go to touch what I think is a canteen of water, only to find something soft and round in my hand instead. Huh, that's funny, I think to myself. I didn’t remember my drink ever feeling pillowy. Probably because it was Lock's right tit and not my drink. It's a damn good thing I didn't insist on drinking from it to test it, now isn't it?
I stared up at her. Or well, as best as I could. What with the one eye and the drugs making me hazy and all. Lock's tongue ran across her lips in a filthy manner, blushing and acting like a girl who had just run through puberty getting her first crush, squealing at me. “Oh, boss elf, Lock didn't know you cared like that! Wouldst thou like to drink from Lock? Or perhaps Lock could offer you a drink from her other cup?” lifting her loincloth and peering at me with lusty eyes. “Perhaps you'd like another kiss? Seems Lock's first one woke up your sleeping beauty self just fine.”
My brain broke and my head began to ache harder than it had been at the moment of injury. She kissed me? That was her lips I felt, and not Laeshann's? The longing and love I felt wasn't a motherly goddess and her excellent tits, but a fucking dragon bitch? Kill me now. I prayed for death again and nothing. I bet Laeshann is in cahoots with Lock now. It would explain the oddly sandy, leathery taste in my mouth, though. There was some remnants of metal on my tongue, too, but I couldn't be sure if that was from my own blood or all the fucking pyrite Lock ate while we were in the mines. Either way, my innocent elven purity was plucked away from me, having kept any of my scant few kisses to other elves. Gone. I'm a traitor to my kind now.
I looked at Kattu, groping around for that water and my cape. The Marshal too! Where was he? He and my cape were bloodied and set nearby as to not stain anything, waiting to see if I wanted to clean them or not. The medicine girl picked up her canteen and poured it all over my face, dribbling it down my throat and giggling. I asked what she was on this time, and she just said it was a small dose of what I got. Why should I hog all the fun, after all? I slowly got to and decided to look Lock in her stupid face and ask what happened, wiping my mouth onto my arm and snorting. Nothing would ever be enough to clean myself after knowing her tongue violated mine.
The ironic fool of a brother of hers is dead now, apparently. While she and the one called Yukina were tussling and having a good old fashioned sibling shout out, he kept trying to interfere and take the spotlight. Or sat on the side critiquing them and their fighting work yet refusing to show them how it was done. What a whiner. So they took him by the horns and wrapped his dinky sweater vest around his neck, snapping it, saying there's the stupid scarf he wanted so bad. At least it's something all of us can agree on having been a good outcome of this. After that, she roughed up Yukina so badly and locked her in with the elders to await her fate. Which is the only reason she's wandering around alive now and not in chains or dead is because she turned her own sister in and carried me back here. She could stay free so long as she was near me and had someone watching her just in case. A sort of probation, I guess. She had rounded me and my things up, put me on her back, and flew me out. Said I should at least have the chance to fly once before I died, even if I wasn't awake for it. Why was she being so nice to me? After all I've done to her, you think she'd have beaten me around like one of the dune cats bats at its dinner or some such. She just went and put on that dumb teen girl act again and squealed more, giving me an answer I'd not expected.
“Lock like boss elf! Stupid, hot headed, stubborn. Easy to tease, to get to react! Much funnier than Lock's dumb old family and dead brother. Besides, boss elf was going to make a plane that looks and acts like Lock! Lock wants to see this and make sure it's named after her in big, bold letters!” she hissed. Is she confessing her love to me? What in the name of the Embers. I woke up and found myself in one of those terrible romance novels you see brothel hookers reading in between clients. “Lock saw you wriggle in your sleep groaning about someone's perfect bosom and wanting kisses to bring you back to life, so Lock complied! Least she could do for boss elf!”
Gross. Gross gross gross. Last thing I needed in my life was the enemy falling in love with me.
“Lock sorry she faked being drugged for boss elf. Just not strong enough to control Lock, but you were having fun, Lock didn't want to ruin it. Besides, much better pay and meal plan than if Lock had gone back with Yukina. Lock guesses she's just too lazy to be a proper dragonkin. If it means being on a leash or taking bad drugs, Lock don't care much, just so long as she gets to quest and eat greasy meats! Pet, friend, slave, at least Lock lives by her own rules! Now Lock tired, gonna take a nap. Talk to your elder when you can sit up, too, okay boss elf?” With that said, she curled up outside the wagon and took a nap, where she still stands now. There are signs of wounding and bruising on her, but a sadistic smile lay spread across her stupid face.
Kattu then helped me sit up and offered me more water, giggling and scratching at her ears like a cat would. “Ohh, someone's in love! Shall I get the book of Our Lady out and marry you two lovebirds right now so you can go home after the war and start and egg nest and name them all after me or do you need a minute to let this all settle in?” Dammit woman, she's the only one in love, if anyone is. Just sounds like a stupid case of falling for your captor in an effort to ensure your freedom. I'm not buying that load of 'happier here' garbage. Heard it all too many times, especially from bards. A harpy bard once told me this, and wound up stealing my lunch when I wasn't looking. I should have known that the worst person ever imaginable would be a dirty sandwich snatcher. I just told Kattu to settle down and focus on keeping us both hydrated. At that point, I wasn't sure that it wasn't just a fever dream brought on by pain and enormous amounts of drugs.
That's when the medicine woman got it in her rotten noggin to reach over and kiss me, too. Does a wounded, bloody, sweaty, drooling, high little mechanic elf just turn everyone's damn slits on around here or something? Did I miss a memo? I just blinked and stared, asking her what she's on about now. “Seemed like a good idea. Wanted to see what Lock was on about. Maybe someday, if you do wind up saving us, I can always brag to my future kids about how I got to steal a kiss from a legendary heroine! They'll think that's pretty cool. I know I think it is. Why, do you want another? Something more? My, I could never, I'm more innocent than that! Go ask your girlfriend to do so! I'm not that kind of doctor! I'll gladly give you both a sample of my latest aphrodisiac though if you'd rather...” Oh by Our Lady this is the worst suggestion I think I've ever heard, my head dizzying again and me falling back down to the makeshift cot I was on.
I'm so very very happy and thankful to Laeshann that I passed back out right then. I don't care what put me to sleep, but the last thing I needed to know of was intimate details of an intimate tale penned by a drugged up medicine woman. Save that for your circle of friends that won't judge you, or at best, your own journal and mind so I never have to see or hear of it, even in whispers. I know there are cults out there that get their delights off writing insipid tales about their role models and friends, putting them out under terrible pseudonyms for the world to enjoy, all of them laughing behind our backs. Things we'd never do to each other, usually our worst enemies. I bet Kattu is the ringleader for the Stormlock tribe's archives of such tales. I honestly wouldn't put it past her already having put out tales in secret regarding Lock and I. The mere thought makes me nauseous. Either that or it's my meds.
At least I'd be ready to face the elders in the morning, having gotten a fuckload of sleep, drug induced or otherwise. The Marshal and my cape would be in working order again by then, and would be my first priority to clean up upon waking. Visions of naked goddesses and dragons chasing me dancing through my head as I lay and have water fed to me every now and again, my eyesight still entirely fucking with me. I just hope what they have to say isn't anywhere near as frightening as what I just had happen to me. Nothing could possibly be worse than a dragonkin wanting to lap at my loins or my medicine girl imitating her and then putting it out in story format for the world to mock me with. I bet she portrays me wildly out of character anyways and nowhere near as heroic and gorgeous as I ought to be. Isn't that always the way?
-Basira Nejem
Dated dawn of the eighth day of the third week of spring in the year 367 in which I guess is the number of eggs in the clutch Lock and I have together in all the terrible stories written about us in the grand archives of Razan
