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Message-ID: <33863asstr$1007586606@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "empath :{)" <empath69@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Errant Night" [Dancer] (magic giant pett) [1/?]
Date: Wed,  5 Dec 2001 16:10:06 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Editor's note: Right folks, got some more stuff from dancer - a couple of 
'chapters' in this story so far, and more to come.  It's inspired by her 
interest in RPGs that I used to play when I had MUCH more time on my hands.

As always:

-those under the age of majority; scram.

-those who think erotica is perverse, degrading, or beneath you; just DON'T 
READ IT! (rolls eyes)

- everyone else; enjoy! :)


_________________________________________________________________
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<1st attachment, "Errant.txt" begin>

Night Errant (magic, giant, pett)
Copyright Dancer 2001


The Maze
========
The Jaegreot sat upon his iron throne and listened to the battle
going on in the adjoining chamber between his lieutenant and the
latest warrior to test the maze's depth. Twenty-two years of
magical imprisonment in his own puzzle by a spurned goddess to
ponder his fate and hope against hope that, perhaps, one fighter
may bypass Tremon the Berserker, his faithful friend and ally,
who guarded him so well. The Jaegreot closed his cat-green eyes
to the screaming next door which told him the newest warrior had
not beaten Tremon. He felt a mixture of grief at the fighter's
death and joy at the opportunity to keep on living, albeit
confined to the center of his maze.

Tremon entered the chamber, looking very much a Berserker -
wiping his bloodied blade clean against his trews, his eyes
reddened with the battle haze and crimson hair sticking up in
wild knots above his head. He was not winded from the encounter
and bared twin rows of jagged, pointy teeth in a semblance of a
grin. "It was a good fight, my friend," the Berserker growled,
pacing a circuit around the torch-lit chamber. "But he held back
the fatal blow."

"Which, of course, you did not, eh, Tremon?" The Jaegreot
understood his ally all too well, having been the one to train
him. Tremon started to speak but a beefy hand slicing through
the air cut him off. "No, Tremon, do not apologize. I ken your
situation, my friend much to my dismay; the vows that clash
within you are the same as my own. One to protect me from harm -
with your life, if necessary - and the other to be free of this
wretched place."

The loyal warrior sheathed his broadsword with practiced ease,
saying, "Dinna be so hard on yourself. How were you to know
Yaffa was more than just a lovely lass who wanted to mount you?"

The Jaegreot sighed and brushed his ebon locks back off his
chiseled face. "I should have, Tremon. I just should have. Am I
not blessed with an ability to see beyond mortal eyes?" His eyes
glittered with shame and anger. He jolted from his throne,
rushed across the chamber to the nearest wall and tore the
richly woven hanging away from the masoned stone. His callused
hands ripped at the material, shredding Yaffa's taunting, nude
image and scattering the pieces across the rush-covered floor.
Moments later, the fabric reformed magically, once again
displaying the goddess' slim, naked portrait upon the wall. Her
golden eyes mocked him knowingly and her pert breasts teased at
his loins, making him hang heavy.

"You made the better choice, Jaeg."

"Did I?" he asked, whirling around to face his friend.

"A chance at freedom is worth any price," Tremon muttered, his
shaggy head tipping up sharply, akin to a hound scenting game. A
brief glow of magic surrounded the pair for a few seconds and
dispersed quickly. "How...?" said Tremon softly to his friend.

The Jaegreot shook his head, whispering, "I know not. Only
fighters of great worth are allowed within my puzzle. A mage
would have not the capabilities to enter, let alone get this
deep without help. A minion or the goddess herself, me thinks,
brother." The Berserker grinned ferally as he withdrew his blade
and quit the chamber, ready for another battle to defend his
liege. Jaeg seated himself on his throne and waited for either
Tremon to return to him, gloating over another victory, or the
stranger to enter this chamber and send the Jaegreot into
oblivion.


The Room
========
Kirsten wiggled around in the plastic chair, anxious and nervous
over being here. A door, -the- door, opened and Stanley exited
with his head bowed in defeat. He glanced at Kirsten, pushing
his wire-framed glasses up his nose and said in a cracking
voice, "Good luck. You'll need it."

"Wait," she cried and grabbed onto his shirtsleeve. "Can you
tell what it's about? Anything?" He opened his mouth, then
snapped it closed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Stan. Gregor
Baltiste went out with a bang, I'm sure."

"Yeah," he replied gently, a single teardrop falling from his
eye. "Don't feel bad, 'kay? Gregor did plenty of wenching across
the vast lands of Baldohr and left quite a few bastards in his
wake." He managed a ghostly smile and wiped at his pimpled face,
knowing Kirsten sympathized with his plight. Her female, dwarven
warrior had double digits behind her name before Mahdenk the
Necromancer refused to grant a seventeenth resurrection.
Stanley's mother would tell him it was only a game but it
wasn't, not to him nor to his role-playing friends. Time and
effort went into creating a character - a part of you - and to
have that character die was utter heartbreak, especially for
Stanley. He patted her hand and told her, "Go on. He's waiting
for you."

She got to her feet and hugged the boy hard before she went
through the door. The room was well lit with a cafeteria-style
table dead center, covered with maps, player tokens and dice. A
man sat at one end and gestured a hand out to an adjacent chair,
motioning Kirsten to sit. "I am Controller of the Maze, Dante
Plantangeant of the Fighters Guild and I await your choice."

Her knees shook until she locked them straight. To be offered a
chance to enter the Maze was incredible and unbelievable to
Kirsten, the highest honor in all of Baldohr. Then his words
impacted her. The Controller was giving her the choice of whom
she wished to play and, as she sat down in the padded seat, she
made it. "Nadia, elfin ranger of the Deru clan, holder of The
Rapier D'Sheark'nmaur, user of Kerowyn's Bow."

"The idiot?!" Dante asked angrily. "You wish to play the Maze
with a moron? Are you mad, girl?" She crossed her blue eyes
slightly, a trickle of drool sliding out from one corner of her
mouth. He clamped his fingers around the table's edge and ground
out, "So be it. Nadia, enter the Maze, find the center and
receive your reward but be aware for many evil monstrosities
dwell within." He moved her pewter token to the entrance, a boon
to her lack of wisdom that she accepted gratefully and the game
began.

For hours Kirsten played her role, killing orcs and trolls with
either her Rapier or Bow, collecting treasures and setting off
various traps. Kirsten wanted very badly to disarm the trap
blocking her path but Nadia, the simpleton, would never do that.
Nadia had the lowest wisdom of any character in the game - even
lower than Ridien the village idiot who boasted a mere 5. She
peeked over at the Controller as she moved her token onto the
space occupied by the trap and prepared Nadia for whatever Dante
ruled. A roll of one dodecahedron resulted in a quirk of fate
that relieved both of them as Dante spoke. "You have triggered a
trap door which sends you falling thirty feet to stone
flooring." He handed her a tetrahedron die. "Roll for what
injuries you have received from the fall, Nadia."

She took the die into her cupped hand, shook the appendage
gently and spilled the molded piece onto the table. Two. Not too
bad. A sprained ankle, bruised ribs, cuts and abrasions
according to the player's guide and all healable with Nadia's
magical powers. She cast out a detection spell to see what
monsters were nearby, surprised and startled to find only a pair
of humanoids. They stood on the other side of the wall she
rested against, then separated as one walked away. These two
were the only humanoids she'd encountered in the Maze and
Nadia/Kirsten wondered who they were. Adventurers, perhaps?
Guardians? She spelled a reliable wound cure for her cuts and
they healed, leaving her ribs and ankle tender.


The Maze
========
Notching an arrow against her bowstring and holding her Rapier
ready at waist level, Nadia walked along the corridor
cautiously. Sometimes she ran into other people while
adventuring and was kind to them, giving aid when she could.
More often than not, those she helped stabbed her in the back to
keep her from reaching the goal before them. Even so, Nadia
firmly believed that all Baldohrians were good and it saddened
her when they oft died from playing fighter with her. 'Oh well,'
she thought. 'Not everyone can be elfin like me.' Her thickly
soled leather boots carried her to a corner and she saw a shadow
play across the floor, her instincts telling her this wasn't a
human. A smile crossed her gamin features as she decided the
shadow belonged to an elfin and Nadia turned the corner, coming
face-to-face with a crimson-haired warrior. "You are not elfin!"
she cried unhappily, frowning.

"No, I am not," the warrior replied. He was forced to gaze up at
Nadia as she towered over his seven-foot frame with room to
spare. "I am known as Tremon," he growled out politely. "And you
are?"

"Nadia," she answered, hanging her Bow over her shoulder and
embracing him. She slapped the flat of her blade forcefully
against his muscled back and giggled like a child, despite her
greater size. "I've heard of you, Berserker. You are the only
one to best the Jaegreot in combat." She let go and quickly fell
to a seated position at his booted feet, waiting. "Tell me,
Tremon. Tell me how you beat the greatest Berserker in all of
Baldohr!"

He fumbled for something to appease Nadia, besides the truth.
This hardened fighter could see how naive the elfin was and
didn't have the heart to tell her he trounced Jaeg by thrusting
a half-naked serving wench between them. His friend paused to
gaze at the delightful cleavage before his eyes during a
critical moment and Tremon clubbed him with a sneaky blow to the
crotch. "I caught Jaeg unawares when he stopped to help a damsel
in distress," Tremon informed his listener, glossing over the
truth without really lying. Her pink tongue stuck out a bit
between her lips, confirming she had a child-like mind and he
huffed into his mustache. Should she attack, he would not strike
her down. "Nadia, would you like to meet the Jaegreot?"

"HE'S HERE!?" she squealed and shot to her feet. "Where!? Where
is the Jaegreot?!" Nadia shoved Tremon aside, knocking on his
arse when she rushed passed him down the corridor. Reaching out,
he snaked a brawny arm around her slender ankle and caused her
to trip over him. She landed hard on a shoulder and cried out in
pain, tears streaming down high cheekbones. Immediately
contrite, he cradled her lean, lanky body across his lap and did
what he always did to soothe a woman's tears. He kissed her
soundly, crushing her soft mouth with his firmer one and felt
her go stiff against him. Nadia pulled away suddenly and gaped
at him, touching her bruised lips with fingertips. "You kissed
me."

"Forgive, Nadia, for I only wished to halt your tears," Tremon
murmured, a blush as red as his hair staining his cheeks.

She giggled, "Your face is the color of your hair, Tremon." Her
light eyes widened in wonderment. "Why is that?" Instead of
answering, he scooped her up and set her onto her feet, then
clasped her slender fingers and led her down the corridor toward
the Jaegreot. His friend would know how to deal with Nadia other
than assault her with plundering kisses. That would be the last
thing Jaeg did, as he preferred more voluptuous women with flesh
that a man could sink his teeth into...among other things.

The Jaegreot listlessly stared at the closed door, wondering if
Tremon found the magic user. Waiting was not his strongest
virtue but it was all he was able to do for he could not leave
this chamber. Yaffa, the wicked bitch, had magicked the door
against him, and though he tried over the past score of years,
he couldn't leave. He smacked a fist painfully on the arm of his
chair, losing patience with Tremon and the geas that held him
confined in this maze. A murmur of voices reached his ears as
they talked behind the door. One was Tremon's baritone but the
second Jaeg didn't recognize. Someone pushed the door ajar with
a creak of the hinges and a blonde-haired, blue-eyed giant
peered inside. "Are-are you the J-Jaegreot?" the giant asked in
a mousy tone.

Jaeg crooked a finger and beckoned the creature to come inside.
"You must be a mighty warrior to defeat Tremon. I wish to know
what they call you, giant."

"Nadia and I'm not a giant. I'm an elfin ranger," Nadia replied
proudly, poking a thumb at her sternum. He gazed where the digit
hit or more precisely, he gazed -above- at the small expanse of
white flesh squeezed tightly in a fitted vest. It wasn't much
but it told him she was a female and a meagerly endowed one at
that. As he raked his eyes over her lithe form, he noticed the
only fat upon it was the pair of breasts squashed together under
her laced vestment. Kirsten used the high intelligence of Nadia
to return the Jaegreot's look and size up the hidden attributes
of the Berserker king.


The Room
========
"You are not playing your ranger properly," the Controller said
harshly. "An idiot would not be staring so intently at the
Jaegreot's...ah, form, shall I say?" He tapped out a steady
rhythm as he drummed his fingers on the table.

Kirsten flushed beet red and apologized for her impertinent
behavior. "I'm sorry, Controller. I-" She didn't finished,
embarrassed at what she was about to say and she squirmed in her
seat. Berserkers were supposed to look like...well, Berserkers!
Dirty, ratty hair and ugly, definitely ugly. Not so...so...damn
good-looking and sensual. The Jaegreot looked more like a
highland laird from the historical romances Kirsten devoured
nightly than a ferocious, deadly Berserker leader. "Focus," she
mumbled to herself. "Focus on the game and not him."


The Maze
========
Nadia narrowed her gaze at the Jaegreot. "I've breached the
center of the maze. Now what happens?"

Jaeg blinked rapidly. He swore he saw Nadia's image waver,
disappear for several moments, replaced by another woman; a
human woman with the lush, amply endowed shorter height he
craved to conquer. Just as soon as Jaeg had taken in this new
woman's form, Nadia had returned with the same blurring effect.
Magic, he decided but from whom? Nadia? Yaffa? His nostrils
flared when he thought of the goddess. Yes, Yaffa would do this
to torment him further: offer the perfect, womanly form, then
jerk it from his grasp. He scratched his bearded chin, sighing
heavily, "I do not know for you are the first to reach me."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Why are you here? Can you not
leave this place?"

"No," he groaned and told her his tale. "I am under a geas,
magicked to this maze of my creation by a goddess because I
refused her advances." Nadia gazed at him quizzically and he
explained, "Uh, the goddess, Yaffa she is called, came to me on
the eve of the Battle of Ferno-"

"Where you killed the black troll king, Orphild?" the elfin
asked surprised as she knelt before his booted feet, settling
down for his story.

He smiled briefly, having only heard such wonderment from small
children. "Yes, I slew Orphild but that is neither here nor
there. My tale lies with the eve before and not the battle
itself." Nadia lowered her eyes to the floor shyly. "Yaffa came
to me in my tent after sundown in the guise of a camp follower,
offering herself and pleading with me to mount her. I refused,
as I never engaged in sexual activities the night of an upcoming
battle and the pretty goddess cursed me. Nadia?" He watched her
upturned face, carefully logging the slack jaw and glaze over
her blue eyes. He reached down and brushed a finger across her
rosy cheek. "Nadia, are you well?"

"-You- put -that-," she pointed at his groin with distaste, "in
a -woman-?"

"By the gods, you're a virgin!" he bellowed.

"NO!" she yelled, her denial echoing throughout the chamber.
"I'm -ELFIN-!" A raucous chortle came through the shut door from
Tremon and Jaeg realized Nadia was simple-minded, naive and very
shocked.

Jaeg jumped out of his throne, grabbed Nadia and shook her
bodily. "Nadia! Listen to me, dammit!" She tossed her head back
and forth, working herself into a frenzy until he slapped her
soundly across the face. "Will you cease caterwauling and -
LISTEN-TO-ME-!?" First, her eyes grew round, then narrowed at
his strike. She whipped up her sword and jabbed the deadly point
deep inside his belly. He dropped his hold on her, pressing his
palms hard against the profusely bleeding wound and moaned,
"Why?"

"You hit me! Boys are not to hit girls, no matter what!"

"But it's all right for girls to stab boys, Nadia?" he
whispered, tasting blood in his mouth. His words struck a cord
with her. She threw down her Rapier and sank onto her knees,
covering her face with her hands as she cried. 'This wasn't
exactly how I wanted to be free of Yaffa's curse,' he thought
idly as he felt his life essence slipping away. His lids grew
heavy and difficult to keep open, so he allowed them a moment of
respite, aware that it might be the last thing he ever did.
"Forgive my harshness, elfin," Jaeg whispered when he found
strength enough to talk.

Warmth imbued his body while he felt a pair of healing hands
cover his red-stained ones. "Nadia can forgive the Jaegreot," a
voice not Nadia's murmured. "But I think you should have taken
Tremon's method to calm her down."

"Mmmm, and what is that? Kiss her senseless?"

A tinkle of laughter called to him. "It's awfully hard to make a
moron senseless," the feminine voice replied smartly. "But
Tremon didn't get gutted for doing it. Open your eyes and tell
me how you feel."

There was a stitch in his side and he felt very much alive.
Cautiously, Jaeg lifted his eyelids to see the identity of his
healer and they shot completely open when his gaze found it was
the image from before. "You! You're truly here? With me?" he
asked incredulously. She wore the green and gold robes of a
Druidic healer, her hair the reddish-brown of his roan gelding
and her body...sweet Jesu! Thank the gods Druids followed their
Goddess' edicts of tightly bound clothing which were as
confining and form-fitting as any fighter's garb and gave Jaeg
an excellent view of womanly curves spilling over the neckline
of her robe. "If this is heaven, kill me again," he muttered,
tangling his left hand deep into her locks and dragging her down
for a soul-stealing kiss.

He caught her off-guard with his actions but she shook off her
surprise and returned his kiss enthusiastically, her tongue
delving bold as brass inside his mouth. She aroused him fully
and his hardness pressed painfully against his sword belt,
demanding to be freed. He tore at the fastening of his trews
when she mimicked loveplay with her tongue, thrusting the muscle
in and out of his mouth and driving him wild. To his
disappointment, the healer ended the kiss abruptly, sighing;
"Your protector is a little too close for my comfort. Do you
think we can find a better place without him?"

"I kinna leave this chamber," Jaeg replied thickly and attempted
to bring her back to his hungry mouth.

She smiled coyly, an excitement brightening her eyes. "Why don't
you try?" She levered herself out of his embrace, got to her
feet and gave him a hand up. He accepted gratefully, still weak
from the near-death blow and leaned slightly upon her shoulders.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, letting his fingers graze
the top of her bottom but she slid his hand up to her shoulder.
"Later. Let's get you out of here first."

"I would walk through hell and back on that promise alone,
healer," he purred.

"Kirsten. My name is Kirsten," she informed him as they hobbled
toward the door. Exhausted, Jaeg propped himself along the frame
while Kirsten tugged it open and a very dead Tremon crashed into
her. She screamed, shoving the dead Berserker away and he
dropped to the floor with a thud. The Jaegreot found renewed
energy as he checked his ally for any signs of life and he
howled like a wounded animal when there were none. Kirsten
swallowed her fear and used her Druidic magics to figure out how
he was murdered. "There's a bilbuous yellow aura around his
body. Do you know anyone who leaves such a mark?"

"Yaffa has enough reason to kill Tremon and the magics to do it
silently," he growled and stared up at her. "I should have known
this would happen when Nadia...what-?"

"She's gone from this world," Kirsten answered his unspoken
query. "I sacrificed her to save you." She fidgeted with the
ties of her robes nervously. "Nadia's not dead, if that's
bothering you. I just...took her place in the Maze because-never
mind. Let's get the hell out of here." Jaeg hefted Tremon's
lifeless body across his broad shoulders while Kirsten gathered
Nadia's Rapier and a cumbersome claymore, handing the large
broadsword to the Berserker. He raised a black brow in question.
"Don't worry, I can handle a blade fairly well for a Druid."

Touching the deadly tip of his sword along her pale face, Jaeg
vowed softly, "As there is a breath in my body, you will never
have need of weapon." He couldn't believe he'd made such a
pledge to a near stranger, albeit one he ached to bed, with his
lieutenant's corpse dangling over his shoulders. Had the years
geased to his maze made him insane? Her cheeks stained pink at
his words, her blue eyes shined brightly and he felt his heart
and manhood swell with pride that he had affected her so. She
shifted her mouth to the right and brushed a tender kiss against
the claymore with great care so as not to injure herself. He
pushed the growing affection for Kirsten aside and became the
commander once more. "I will go ahead and clear the way
for...us. Stay close to my back."

"Like a hound to a hare," she complied and followed Jaeg out the
chamber door. Something tugged at the back of his mind then let
go when he crossed the threshold and the Jaegreot looked behind
him as he finally left his prison of twenty-two years. The
ground beneath their feet rumbled and quaked and Kirsten
shouted, "It's coming down! Here, take my hand!" She flung out
her arm and he gripped her fingers tightly, listening to her
chant quietly under her breath. A sudden pull at his soul caused
him to cry out as the air surrounding them became magically
charged somehow and after many agonizing moments suspended
between time and space, the trio materialized safely at the
mouth of the Maze. The massive structure collapsed in upon
itself as if planned to do so and Jaeg realized it never
mattered if someone breached the center because, once he took
his leave, the entire place would crumble to dust.

Working together, Jaeg and Kirsten constructed a funeral pyre
for Tremon out of branches, leaves and pine tar. Jaeg laid his
friend on top of the heap, said a short prayer to his gods and
sparked flint to stone, lighting the debris. He privately vowed
that Tremon's death would be avenged but the promise did nothing
to ease the pain in his soul. A hand touched his jerkin and he
covered it with one of his, taking the small comfort the Druid
offered. "We need shelter, fresh water and food," he said to
take his mind off the grief. "Night is coming too soon for my
liking and the goblins will be out in force after sunfall." He
looked down at Kirsten and she smiled.

"I know of a safe place not too far from here, a circle of
stones with heavy shielding and wards against evil and a brook
running through." She slipped her right hand into the cradle of
his left, leaving his sword arm unencumbered as she led him deep
into the forests surrounding them. The environs had grown lush
and wild in his absence and made their trek slow going as they
avoided briars and brambles. His lands had bent to the whim of
nature and he decided, after he and Kirsten reached Drockmaur,
he would see about hiring someone to tame the wilderness,
perhaps a-. He stopped and waited for Kirsten to realize he
wasn't following. "What is it? Are we being tracked?" she asked
quickly and quietly, eyeing the woods around her.

"I was thinking-"

"May the Goddess help me, a thinking man," she muttered
humorously, batting her lashes up at him.

"-Druids understand nature, yes?" She nodded. "I can see my
lands have grown unchecked while I was imprisoned and I would
like to hire you to bring them to heel. You know, create a
trouble-free path for my people and others to travel upon
without fear of attack. Blast it!" He growled menacingly at a
clinging, thorny vine wrapped around his calf and pointed to it
angrily. "Do something about these krakow plants!" Kirsten
chuckled, then touched a finger against the vine circling his
leg and it uncoiled itself, retreating away rapidly.

"Truly, you can't blame them for I, too, would very much enjoy
wrapping myself around your calves." Her confession was spoken
barely above a whisper as she closed her slender fingers about
the well-defined muscles, heating his blood and forging him into
steel. She let go and he stifled a moan when she trailed her
fingertips up along his outer thigh, resting them gently atop
his sword belt. "But that is neither here nor there. We have to
get inside the circle and soon. I can sense unnatural creatures
all around us." They ran, Kirsten first and the Jaegreot right
behind her, knowing speed was of the essence and silence be
damned.

They reached the circle before any goblins pounced upon them and
darted between two twelve-foot high monoliths. Kirsten gestured,
dancing her fingers in the air and Jaeg saw the golden glow of a
Druidic shield surround the stones, enveloping the pair with
sanctuary. She nodded to him, saying, "We're safe and now..." He
grinned salaciously under his facial hair and reached to pull
her into his arms but she stepped away. "...Now we can talk. I
have a lot to tell and ask you."

"Women always want to talk," he grumbled but acquiesced to her
wishes and seated himself, leaning his seven-foot-five-inch
frame back against one of the monoliths. "Can you talk if you
sit beside me? The air grows cooler..." She shook her head no
and he shrugged his massive shoulders, not pressing the
situation. Instead, she curled her legs underneath her bottom
and sat at his feet.

"I'm not from Baldohr," she began softly. "I'm from a different
world, a different time, a place called Earth and I live in a
city called Milwaukee. I thought Baldohr was imaginary, a...a
game where people made up characters and had grand adventures. I
created several different characters. Nadia the elfin ranger,
whom you've met, Bubbles the dwarven fighter. I can't remember
how many times she's been resurrected. Um, myself, a Druidic
priestess..." she paused and checked his face. He simply looked
thoughtful and bade her to continue her tale. "Anyways, I
received a message, an invitation to play an exclusive adventure
which I accepted with honor. I met the Controller of the Maze
and he gave me the choice of which character I wanted to use and
I chose Nadia because she was the best of all I had. Well, you
know Nadia entered the Maze since she reached you in the center
but when she gutted you...I-I begged the Controller to let
Kirsten replace Nadia and he did...but..."

"Magics," Jaeg whispered, reaching out and touching Kirsten's
shoulder. "The...Controller used magics to send your true self
to this world, yes?"

"Yes," she choked out. "This Kirsten is my Baldohrian twin.
Regardless of how he sent me, I couldn't just stand by and watch
the Jaegreot die by my...er, Nadia's hand." Her words petered
into nothing as her sobbing overcame them and she allowed him to
drag her into his embrace.

"Shhh, shhh, calm yourself," he said gently against her tresses,
rocking her curvaceous body with his masculine arms. It was pure
torture to have her so close, her luscious thighs pressing
across his lap but Jaeg threw his lusty feelings aside, offering
her comfort instead of his cock. "My thanks, Kirsten, for coming
to my aid. I am indebted to you."

She wiped the sleeve of her robe across her cheeks. "No, no
you're not. It was my fault you almost died...what do I call
you? The Jaegreot is such a mouthful to say."

"My friends call me Jaeg."

"Jag, like the car-oh, forget it. You wouldn't know what a car
is anyway." She crawled off his lap, standing on her feet and
tugging at her robes. "We've got a place to rest and water to
drink so, food would be last on the list, yes? I'll call out and
see if I can get a deer or a hart to come out of hiding and you
can whack it for supper."

"'Whack it'?" he asked while he got to his feet. "Do you mean
kill it?"

She sighed, "Sorry, Jaeg. Yes, I mean kill it but, ah, not in
front me, okay?" He agreed and waited for supper to show itself.
"There's a four-point stag just outside the circle," she
whispered quietly. "The Goddess won't allow innocent blood
spilled within the stones." He understood, hefted his claymore
and stepped lightly between stones, spotting the male deer a few
feet away from his position. The kill was quick and clean and he
dressed the ruminant speedily, then hoisted the carcass across
his back, returning inside the circle. Kirsten had fashioned a
cooking spit with The Rapier suspended between two rocky spires
over a blazing pit of fire. He glanced from the blade to her in
question while tearing one meaty haunch off the deer. "It's
immune to fire and just about everything else. Allow me to
introduce to you The Rapier D'Sheark'nmaur."

Jaeg was awestruck. "How...? When...?"

Kirsten giggled and motioned for him to skewer the venison with
the ancient weapon. "Luck of the die roll is how Nadia got a
hold of it but Kirsten received it after healing the Dragon
Queen Gerta from a deathly poisoned crossbow bolt."

"My lady," he mumbled reverently, falling onto his knees. "Had I
know you are -that- Druid healer...I apologize for having my way
with you, Lady."

"Get up, Jaeg," she told him and tugged on his hands. "You don't
have to grovel and kow-tow to me. I should be doing that to you,
oh mighty Berserker. And stop huffing so hard, you're getting
hot breath all over my cleavage!" She rubbed the dampness along
her neckline with the robe's collar, calling his attention to
her full bust. Kirsten stared at the fat, pink muscle that
snaked out and licked along the deep, fleshy valley. If she
didn't call a halt immediately, she knew he'd have her flat on
her back, sans clothing, and truly having his way with her.
"Stop, please," she begged the warrior.

"Why?" He gripped her hips forcefully, digging his callused
fingers into the folds of her robes and buried his face in the
creamy dale.

"Because...because...I-I don't know how you look with all that
hair!"

He drew back, studying her flushed face and stroking his lengthy
beard. "You wish me clean-shaven, Lady? What of your promise in
the maze?"

"Jaeg, it tickles when you kiss me," she purred and an impish
thought came to her. "Would you be interested in a bargain? If
you are clean-shaven -AND- have cut your hair, I will be the
same for you and think how that would feel: my hairless mons
against your newly bared cheeks or, better still, against the
length of your rod when you take me."

His green eyes crossed slightly at her powerful words and his
voice dropped to an even lower pitch than usual. "I swear with
my oath that I will do what you ask of me here and now as long
as we are together and I ask a similar pledge from you, except
that you never take a blade to your gorgeous tresses. EVER."
With cat-like grace, he sprang to his feet and looped her
flowing hair around one fist three times. "A woman with long
hair is easier for a man to control." He held her firmly in
place while he crushed his mouth against hers and demonstrated
with his tongue just what he wanted to do to her. His free hand
dove beneath the top of her robe, palming a breast and kneading
the lovely globe until the nipple poked insistently into his
hand.

'Gods, I want him inside me,' Kirsten thought, suckling his
thick tongue hungrily. It had been too long since a man, hell -
anyone - held her so and she reached between their bodies to
unfasten the stays of his trews, whimpering as her fingers
grazed his covered shaft. Her cunt became a dripping, gaping maw
under her confining robes, eager to taste a Berserker's cock
erupting within it. Just as his turgid member was free, she
froze, sensing eyes upon them. "Something's watching us," she
whispered softly against his lips.

"Hush, sweetling, 'tis only the animals you feel," Jaeg moaned
and shifted his attentions to a succulent earlobe. "Yaffa," he
muttered in an almost inaudible tone.

"What should we do?"

"Playact," he said, then louder, "Lady, forget supper! I have
all the sustenance you will need!" He wrapped her lax fingers
around his cock and used her hand to pleasure himself.

"Jaeg," Kirsten twittered. "You said nothing of carrying -two-
broadswords! I wonder how many this one has cleft in twain? Will
I become the next wench to be impaled upon your lengthy weapon?"
Quickening her strokes, he flinched in her hand and hot, sticky
semen spewed out, trickling along her slender wrist. He jerked
at her hair and propelled her onto her knees, roughly ordering
her to lick him clean. A strange, beautiful woman leapt into the
circle and shoved Kirsten aside, the new mouth and tongue homing
in on Jaeg's dirty prick. "Hey! He wants me to do that!" Kirsten
cried, pouncing on top of the other woman.

"Bitch!" the woman hissed, and fired bolts of flame from her
fingertips at Kirsten. She turned to Jaeg, her face filled with
hatred and desire. "You. You spurned me for -her-?! She's
nothing more than human piglet! I will make you die a thousand
times for rejecting me, Jaegreot, this I vow."

"You've got to go through me to get to him," growled Kirsten as
she diverted the flame bolts away with a gesture. "Piglet, am I?
Who're you to talk, string bean? Elfins have more on top than
you!"

"Do you have any idea who -I-AM-, human?"

"No and I really don't care," the priestess retorted and
flattened her glowing palms along the grassy ground. She chanted
under her breath, calling upon the reserves of energy in the
circle and creating a fathomless pit beneath her opponent's
dainty feet. The woman disappeared down the hole with a shriek
and Kirsten sealed the opening as soon as the last blonde hair
was inside. Dusting her hands together, she said, "That should
keep her occupied for while, at least until we can get to the
nearest Druids Grove." Jaeg howled deep in his throat, sheathed
his claymore and grabbed The Rapier, scraping the blackened deer
meat off the holy blade. He tossed Kirsten belly-down over one
shoulder and ran away from the sacred circle into the errant
night.

end


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