Part I: the Night with Anomen.
They couldn't get to the Inn fast enough. Her supposed Knight in shining armour was indeed worse for wear. His face was smeared with blood from the last battle, and there were scratches on his once shiny, pristine armour of the heart with a plus three magical protection. Disheveled was his hair, dark and mussed up but oh, oh so very handsome, according to what she saw. She was very horny and couldn't wait to get to the Inn fast enough. Despite his battle scars and his dusty look, he kept looking her way, glancing towards her when he thought she wasn't looking. He was indeed as horny as her, according to the way he did look, with his eyes filled with dark lust. And indeed, just weeks before, he had been fighting this urge, fighting it with every breath; eventually, he lost, as were many of his internal battles. He had become her knight, forever clasped to her, in ways that he could not imagine.
So she took herself to the front, as always, leading the disheveled pack of comrades she called friends. The small gnome whose expertise in thieving earned them nearly more gold than they could carry. Luckily for them, they had stumbled upon a bag of plenty that managed to hold many of their items. Still, their precious gem bags and scroll cases were sought after, and they snapped up any from merchants come their way. There was the menacing dwarf, whose talents with the sharp axe helped clear any enemies that were in their way. He looked worse than any of them, with his bleeding sores coming out from his thick hide, the beard twisted from the dried blood, gray and red, sticky and filled with the late afternoon sweat. There was her very fancy looking bard whom she picked up at the Bridge district so early on their adventure, and indeed, she fancied herself in love with his songs when first he kneeled at her feet and called her his sweet lady raven. And indeed they had shared many nights under one blanket, one bed, where his kisses had planted across her skin, searing them and sending her ablaze with passion. But he was a wayward bird, as he claimed, telling her he couldn't commit.
She agreed, and their relationship was one of silence, backroom kisses and heavy petting. And only a few in her group know too well their silent and heady relationship. When she picked up Anomen much later at the Copper Coronet, her so called flighty bard was indeed jealous with inner rage, but he accepted the fact that his lady raven and himself were not the committing type. He had told her one night under the stars when the priest was whisked away by Bodhi's vampiric bite, that he would accept her relationship with the Helm cleric. But not before he had taken her again and again under the stars, burning her with his kiss. That was the last time he had touched her. The next day proved fruitful, for she had taken Anomen's body and Bodhi's dark heart to the altar and brought him back to life. The priest pledged himself to her forever more.
Today was an eventful day, and when they looked up, they felt thankful in their hearts that they were alive. The sky was bleeding purple, criss-crossing the atmosphere like a melting dagger and the clouds upon the dusty road dispersed, revealing a small little village with twisting trees that served as a small fort.
She was a Bhaalspawn, and everywhere she went she was feared, or admired, but whichever the case, her gold was welcomed. Her boots of speed pushed her forward, easing her mobility as if she were on a lofty swift cloud, and her friends, with the gnome, the dwarf, the druid whose sad eyes had seen much, given up much, and wanted nature to be in harmony around them, took up the rear. And there was the woman named Jaheira, another druid in the party whose skills also rivaled the fighter dwarf. Those two did not always get along, and the little evil aligned fighter would poke at Jaheira's barefoot and bear skin clothing, teased about how the druid smelled either like grass, or a day old wet squirrel. She would fight back with her own words; sometimes ignoring the dwarf's mean ways, for their companionship throughout the journey afforded them much time to get to know each other.
Aye, indeed, there should have been only six of them, but Quizza Bhaal managed to sneak in one more party member for her benefit, and damned the gods for interfering. So, the day was coming to a close, and the lady leader whose blood runs with the might of gods, forged through the near empty town, searching the townsfolks empty faces for anything, but received nothing but just a hair breath's acknowledgement.
"Let us go into the Inn first," barked the little gnome, "My uncle Spanky always says that a man can't go on without food and rest, water and substance to fill his belly and make his mind clear. Those are wiser words, especially when the smell of baked bread and sausages fill the Inn."
Indeed the gnome was correct. Their stomachs were rumbling loudly once the smell of fresh bread and cooked sausages assaulted their nostrils. Quizza almost fainted from hunger and Anomen, her knight, the man whose eager eyes lingered on her bosom, on her hips and everywhere her skin was exposed, held her fast.
"My lady, are you unwell? Come. Let us hurry to the Inn. For once, I agree with the gnome's words."
Aye, indeed, she thought in her head, now swirling with the heady scent of her companion's arms around her, holding her up, how positively female she must be at this course of their adventure. How weak she must look to her companions for the first time, nearly fainting from lack of food, exerting her body to the point of total exhaustion; ignoring those normal urges until finally, something as such a thing as the scent of food sent her spiraling into her would be lover's arms.
The Innkeeper was pleased to see a group of adventurers with heavy pockets adorn his establishment, for lately, there had only been those of the commoners in town with tight purses and greedy paws for seconds. And indeed, those passing through this village were not always heavily armoured with what obvious gold and silver, platinum and unique weapons these beheld in their possession. The Innkeeper's eyes could not see past the gold that shone in his eyes this very day.
Within the hour, the group had comfortably sat themselves around the round table, with the fireplace going, licking warm against their exposed skin, where their heavy armour lay either in their bag of holding or next to their chairs, relaxing against the heat of the fire. And the servant maids had brought platters of food, with baked bread, juicy meats, and cooked potatoes. Eagerly, the adventurers made their way to the food with zealousness.
When they were done, they sat back full, and the sounds of burps from the gnome and the dwarf filled the room. Anomen sent them a look of disgust, thinking to himself, no doubt that these disgusting ungentlemanly types knew no medium of decorum. And the bard settled himself comfortably by the fire, with his golden harp by his person; sing a lullaby, his grey eyes lingering over to the female leader of their group. Jaheira tried to be a lady, but she was never one, and burped as loudly as the other two. This did not surprise Quizza in the slightest, for she had traveled with the druid fighter since before, after Candlekeep, and knew the female possessed no ladylike qualities as one might see in a great noble house. Jaheira was, after all, a woman of the wood, a fighter and a spoke freely of anything she wished that was on her mind.
Finally, when the night was filled with stars, Anomen took up Quizza's arm, held her softly, whispering against her ear, for her alone, "My lady, if we may retire together, I have need of something of great importance to say to you."
Quizza felt the tingling of her loins, avoided the bard's looks, and continued on to their room without a backward glance of what her group was doing. She paid them no mind, as they had already acquired rooms of their own and perhaps wanted to wile away some of the late night hour to fall heavily upon their cups filled with mead and ale. They deserved it. They had fought bloody battles on the way here, and they needed the drink, the rest and perhaps, if they were lucky, coin enough to earn them a female or male harlot of their choice.
Tonight, Quizza was feeling lusty for the knight whose arms held her with gentle urging.
"My lady," he whispered, "I would ask you," he continued, the sound of his breathing filled with a kind of dark ardor. She watched as he lit the candle and set it by their bedside, then watched with awe as he lifted his tunic, away from his person, revealing to her his strong arms, muscled torso, and.....
"I would ask, my lady, if you find me desirable?"
"Oh...oh yes, Anomen..." She harshly whispered, barely containing herself from jumping him right there. But she knew she had to refrain from acting less than the lady he thought her to be. For he came from a noble family, and thought her above all other ladies, and to act less than, even act as the barefoot druid Jaheira would be an affront, perhaps to his upbringing.
"Then, may I please you, I am so happy you find my physique pleasing to the eye, for I want so much to satisfy you, hold you tight into the night and show you, as a man might show the woman he desires, how gentle and avid..."
She could barely get any breathing herself, as he edged closer, shadowing her smaller form, and his lips close to hers, touching her, heating up their presence with surprising electricity. Their lips touched, and in that instant her mouth opened by his heated tongue, and her moans served only to drive him further. He lifted her body up, sweeping her off the floor and settling her down on the downy bed easily. She could only imagine that her eyes were filled with a kind of lustful gleam and his, oh-his were very much hot and desirable.
She helped him pull her clothes off, peeling them off one by one-the scratchy tunic, the chain mail, the boots that helped her fly, her silky panties that were once there, but now discarded on the wooden floor. She was breathing heavily now, with his hands all over her skin, large hands cupping her heavy breasts, and now inching their way down to the valley between her legs. She had her eyes closed, gasping, horny by the light of one candle, and feeling the hot tip of his tongue touching her nipple. And instantly devouring one with his wet mouth, suckling like a babe that she had to wiggle and hold his head close. She heard herself mew as a kitten would, and felt his body close over hers. Her arms went round his shoulders, her fingers digging into his back, feeling the tight muscles there.
"Oh Anomen, this is....Oh..." She pleaded, and he drove into her mercilessly, hearing his grunts and heavy breathing, thrusting hard into her, and she felt the explosion behind her eyes, her mouth open-dry now, but he closed his mouth over hers, his tongue dipping inside her quickly, as quickly as his own body slammed into hers, stabbing her into the bed.
When it was over, their sweat mingled in the open air, he lay beside her, kissing her temple, pushing the wet hair away from her eyes. And he told her that night, how much he loved her. She turned her face away, and the tear that fell from her eyes blinded her. She didn't know if she loved him, but she just couldn't bear to be away from him after this.
"Hush, Anomen," She said, placing her finger over his pliant lips, "Hush, and say no more, my love, for tonight, tonight is special..."
"I would, if you do not protest, and if you are not so tired, for you need your rest, to go again, my lady, my love."
She did indeed need the rest, but her loins tingled and her body refused rest until he sated her lust. She wound her arms around him, and again he covered her body.
