Amethystra Pt. 06

6

Hammer held Luriia close as the final touches were added onto the Ravinwolf Guildhall. Hard against the western wall, the former storehouse was already attracting the attention of pledges, eager to join the ranks of the monster and brigand hunters. Hammer recognized some of the older potential members, even some Rangers of the Crimson Hawk, Purple Scale Knights, and a wizard or three from the Violet Tower.

And, of course, there was his son, Quilin Torvirr, standing alongside Wolf and Ravin, a smile on his face as he welcomed known associates and newcomers alike to the guild hall. Within, newly arrived Ravinwolves, as they preferred to be called, were handing out parchments for application, while deeper within the newly renovated building interviews were being administered by seasoned veterans.

The ribbon-cutting of the guild hall, three weeks after Ravin and Wolf had come to Amethystra, signified a great addition to their city and the lands around it. While the Free Marches were largely at peace, there were the occasional brigand or mercenary band traveling through, trying to extort a few extra coins from the farmers and merchants and wanderers. Between the patrols of Amethystra and Argentmoon to the east, such opportunistic entities were scarce. But further north, the Worldwyrm Mountains seemed to be bustling with activity, and few were the goodly souls of that savage region.

Worse, there were rumblings from Rua'Corona. Discontent amidst the non-elven peoples that had been granted livelihood and protection in the elven city pointed toward a boiling kettle. If the rumors were true, the Noble Council, likely in conjunction with Royal Regent Cadran Elladyr, were beginning to enforce an "elf first" policy within the city, which would relegate their other citizens as de facto inferior beings. Hammer had seen things like this in the past, and a potential coup, if not a full-blown revolt and civil war, would be bloody indeed. This matter was further fueled by the elven expedition into the Vanir lands. What had been advertised as a purely exploratory endeavor to unearth ancient Elladyrian Empire relics was looking more and more like imperialist expansion, which had been forbidden under the Vanasir Accords, centuries ago, when the elven empires that spread across the lands of Ayros had overstretched their reach and created havoc in their wakes.

Hammer brushed those thoughts aside as the rush of pledges began to dissipate. He and Luriia approached the Ravinwolf founders and their son, smiling broadly in the midday sun.

"Mother," Quilin said, grinning. "Father. I am glad you have come! It has been nigh a month!"

"And you've been busy," Hammer said. "We have heard of your exploits."

"He is a fine warrior," Ravin assured them, placing a hand affectionately on his upper arm, curling her fingers around his bicep. Hammer's eyes went wide, and Luriia gave the woman a lewd little grin.

"And a fine lover, if the howls are to be trusted," Wolf jibed. Ravin, if she had felt any embarrassment at all, did not show it. Indeed, her grin was one of supreme contentment.

"Apt," she said, and Quilin blushed, though his smile was undeniable.

"My boy," Hammer Thunderborn said. "Just be careful where you point that thing. Thunderborn seed is strong."

"Or is it that Torvirr wombs are fertile?" Luriia asked, grabbing her husband's bottom as she did so.

"Let's go find out," he taunted her, squeezing her back. She yelped, for his grip was much stronger than she was prepared for, even after these long years.

"Stop," Quilin said, blushing more fiercely now. Wolf and Ravin laughed raucously, and only stopped when another approached. His goatee perfectly, meticulously groomed, and his dark hair swept back, Tobias Siilk crossed his arms over his chest.

"Fine work you've done here, Ravinwolves," he said to the giant man and his partner. And to Quilin, Hammer noted, as the spymaster gave him a firm nod. "The realms are better for it."

"Your spymaster has been instrumental," Ravin said to Hammer and Luriia. "Without his support and intelligence, we would have been hard pressed to find work."

Hammer nodded. "He is the best in the business," the barbarian said. "Second only, perhaps, to the naelven spies of Chambressir."

"Dark elves are renowned for their vast stores of information," Luriia confirmed. "Though there are tales of mind monsters that live under the earth in great conclaves that share the vast knowledge of the world in their hive mind. I've never seen them though."

"They're real," Wolf said, shaking his head. "Real ugly."

There was a moment of laughter before everyone realized Wolf and Ravin weren't joining them.

"In any case," Luriia said, stepping forward and taking Wolf's hand, then Ravin's. "We are proud of your efforts here, and prouder still that our son has joined in your quests."

"And you've a skyship," Tobias added from the side. His tone belied his curiosity about that fact. "How fortunate."

"We have made good friends with the Sky Admiral of Valuar," Wolf said. "Between our work here and a few skirmishes with the Drakonid Raiders they do war against, we have formed quite the working friendship."

Ravin nodded her agreement, and indeed, floating above the Ravinwolf Guildhall, the Seluna showed signs of recent repair, even a few claw markings on her hull. The rope tether keeping the ship anchored to the west wall of Amethystra was slack, but a strong breeze caused it to waver.

"And my son has proven a valuable warrior to your cause?" Hammer asked the giantborne warrior.

"Courageous and valorous to a fault. He fights as though he has something to prove," Wolf said, and though Quilin was smiling, beaming even, Hammer heard the concern in the big man's voice. Such ambition could lead to recklessness, which could be a liability.

Wolf seemed to sense the worry in Hammer, or perhaps his concern was written plainly on his face.

"He is eager to learn, and his vigor in battle will be tempered by the wisdom of more experienced warriors." Hammer nodded in gratitude, then pride, as he regarded his son, who had drawn a knife and was running a whetstone against his edge. His attention was wandering, Hammer knew, for this had lost his interest.

"My son," Hammer said, "come home whenever you wish. Your room will always be yours."

Quilin nodded happily. "Thank you, father. Mother," he said, turning his attention to Luriia.

Luriia Torvirr felt her awareness growing distant the longer their meeting with the Ravinwolves went. She had enjoyed the banter and even the lurid insinuations, but her thoughts grew distant indeed after a while. Matron Mother Torvirr could only think about the horned visage of her reflection, sauntering out of her mirror and melding with her. Over the weeks since that event, she had thought much of the entity, which she understood had lodged itself into her thoughts, her flesh, her very soul. And, most pointedly, her libido.

She had been naturally libidinous to begin with, but this...entity, whatever it was, had amplified that aspect of her personality until it became nearly all-consuming. Even now, facing the trio of Ravinwolves, all she could think about was sex. About how the two titanic men near her might handle her. How Ravin Myraden might taste on her tongue, or feel between her thighs. How their hands would feel on her skin, in her mouth, up her...

Luriia was too distantly removed from herself now to truly have much of a say in what her body did. She knew that she had mostly lost control, though sensation still thrilled her.

She did not fear what the possessing spirit might do, for it seemed to only act on her natural impulses rather than pushing her to do things she normally wouldn't. For instance, she wasn't concerned with hurting someone she loved, but she was concerned that the carnal needs she was so familiar with would eclipse every other need. She knew she had to wrest control of herself back from...whatever was consuming her.

But not before she learned a bit more about it. And...perhaps enjoyed it a bit more?

Quilin Torvirr watched as several of his friends approached the Ravinwolf Guildhouse. The bustle of the day had died down after the official ribbon-cutting ceremony had ended, and the young man took some time away from his fellow guildmates, most of them green but a handful veterans from various battles and adventures. Quilin himself was considered a fairly high ranking, if not founding member of the guildhouse, but even he felt uncomfortable as such around the veteran adventurers, warriors, and mages.

So it was a nice change of pace to see familiar faces approaching from the east.

Coira Revel led them, which he found interesting, as she was a lover that enjoyed him as much for his contribution to her carnal artifice as his companionship. Beside her was Felia, who wore an almost secretive smile when they locked eyes. She was dear to him beyond their physical union weeks ago. A close confidant and a trusted friend, Felia's companionship was an extension of their deep friendship. It felt a bit awkward seeing the two fiendborne women walking nearly arm-in-arm together to meet him, and more still when he saw them hold hands. He smiled an uncomfortable smile.

Analise had joined them as well, and the young woman wore her rapier at her hip, her blouse tight about her pubescent torso, and a long, flowing skirt that never flared wider than her hips. His younger sister was in perfect balance, as a fencer ought to be, and he knew that his years as the superior Torvirr fighter were numbered when he saw her fierce gaze. The youngest of the bunch, Analise had more intensity in her gaze than most people could contain in their entire psyche.

Adjacent to her, flanking her on either side, were two friends he hadn't seen in a while, but were no less brothers to him. To Analise's left was a man that looked much like a dwarf in build, though his square jaw and spiked brown hair belied the cherubic expression of a halfling from the Silver Shires of Silvrein. A warrior through and through, he was tough enough to fit into any dwarven brigade. His short sword and stout shield had always been formidable in training, but, like Quilin, Braun Braveheart had little true battle experience.

Opposite Analise, Selanio Snowbow, an elven woman that bore a long falchion across her back and the symbol of Saedis, goddess of winter, on her breastplate, walked with quiet confidence, her short, sideswept hair of pale red in stark contrast with the buzzed sides of her head. She had a metal stud shot through each of her nostrils, and a strand of tiny blue pearls attaching them over the bridge of her nose. When she licked her lips, a matching, larger pearl shot through her tongue could be seen. She was tall for an elf, taller than Analise but not quite as tall as Quilin, but her bearing made her seem like she was head and shoulders taller than the rest of the approaching group. She had an austere, cold expression on her face, but Quilin knew that Selanio was as warm as a hearth's blaze to those she called friend. The outward demeanor, though, was befitting Saedis the Winterheart, her goddess.

Quilin couldn't help but smile at his approaching friends. He slid off his impromptu seat, a section of stone wall outside of the guildhouse. "Gods above, what are the lot of you doing here?" he asked.

Coira, the elder of the group, adjusted her cloak, pulling it tight over her chest. A stern autumn breeze gusted through the air, bearing signs of an impending winter. "We've come to see our friend, of course," she said with a wink. "And, for some of us, it has been weeks since we last laid eyes."

"It's good to see you too, Coira," he said with a smirk as she walked by him, brushing very close. Felia followed suit, kissing him on the cheek as he walked by. She took a seat next to the older fiendborne, resting her head on the red-skinned woman's shoulder.

"They've been like that for the last...many days," Analise said. His younger sister gave him a much more chaste kiss on the cheek.

"And what are you doing with them?" Quilin asked. Analise sat on the other side of Coira, smiling happily in response.

"A girl has her secrets," she said, to which Quilin cast a stern glare at Coira. The older woman frowned at him.

"Give me more credit than that," she said at the unspoken accusation. "Analise works for me. Gathering herbs and such like for my experiments. Nothing like you contributed."

Quilin blushed, and Analise seemed confused, then curious. Then, her face wrinkled into a frown when she realized the implication. "Gross," she said, and Quilin laughed.

"Brother," Braun said in a gruff voice. Quilin turned to the four-and-a-half foot tall fighter and clasped wrists with him. He could feel Braun's strength in his corded muscles and the charm in his grinning face. "I leave Amethystra for a month and you find the most infamous mercenary guild in the Northbreadth to join?"

"They hunt monsters and brigands," Quilin said to the halfling. "Not mercenaries."

"If you say so," Braun said, shrugging. "Not much work hereabouts, though. Where ya been the last few weeks?"

"Sailing the skies," he grinned. "It is glorious!"

"And cold," Selanio said. She clasped wrists with Quilin as well. "When do we leave?"

"We?" Quilin asked?

"They're going with you," Coira announced.

"Not me," Analise said. "I just missed my elder brother."

Her smile was genuine, and Quilin returned it, happy to see his sister, especially considering the last concern they had shared three weeks past. She seemed to sense that he was thinking of that exchange in that moment, for she nodded her head, as if to confirm that was the purpose of her visit.

"I am not in charge of the guild," Quilin said a bit defensively. "I cannot just invite you lot to board the Seluna."

"You don't need to," another voice said. Ravin emerged from the guildhouse, dressed in loose-fitting, comfortable clothes. "I invited them. I caught Selanio and Braun eyeing the new guildhouse, engaged them in conversation, and learned enough to know you would be well-suited to have them aboard."

Quilin was surprised, turning his head back to see the woman that had become a lover to him, and he couldn't deny her charm when she smiled at him. How could he fault her, after all? Selanio commanded some divine magic along with her falchion to deadly effect, and he had seen Braun in training. They would likely prove to be valuable assets in the skies and on the ground.

"Have you ever jumped off that thing?" Braun Braveheart asked Quilin, pointing up at the ship floating over the guildhouse.

Quilin looked confused, but Ravin, her hand sliding onto his shoulder, answered for him. "He's about to."

He had a sinking feeling that he was going to dread the evening's training, even though he was certain that dread would soon turn to excitement.

"We thought it would be pertinent to assemble a quick strike team," Ravin said, addressing the trio. "A small group of efficient, deadly warriors who could deploy from the ship and dive onto a target area, aided by magic and, worst-case scenario, conventional parachutes. A team that could infiltrate, secure an objective, and extricate swiftly. The three of you, Wolf, and myself."

Quilin was nodding along. "Such an asset would be invaluable," he said, "and Valuar employs them to devastating effect on the dragons' ground bases."

"Valuar has many such teams," Ravin continued, squeezing her lover's shoulder. "We have seen them in action and have seen fit to start our own."

Quilin was truly excited now, though he wondered what the training may be like for he and his friends. He would find out come evening time.

Ravin Myraden arched her back, her fingernails raking across Quilin's well-defined abdomen. She was not deaf to his hiss as the slight pain of her nails raking him provoked the sound, but she knew him well enough to know that the pain was as much a thrill to him as the undulating of her hips astride his manhood.

"Keep going," their third said, her voice thin and strained as she quite literally drank in the aura of sexuality around them. High Priestess Caylin Del'Sade reclined with her legs spread wide and her fingers mauling her own vagina as Ravin rode the Torvirr scion. "You're both so close..."

Ravin heard the words and had no doubt in them. Whether it was her divine magic or her own sense for Quilin's state of arousal, she knew not, but she could tell her lover was indeed close by the way his hips flexed, his jaw clenched, and how still his hands became. No more was he groping at her breasts, nor guiding her hips (not that she needed such guidance). He was taut as a bowstring, ready to release. Ravin reached between her legs and pressed her middle finger against her clitoris. Framed by her fore- and ring finger, she rubbed in tight circles as her undulations became simple rocking, jamming herself down on his manhood as he held his dick firm for her.

"Now!" Caylin shouted.

There was a torrent of shadows that burst from her loins, ribbons of insubstantial, inky blackness spraying across the room as her magic released in time with her own orgasm. Her gasping climax was joined by Quilin's grunting and Ravin's singing, the three of them finishing together, though the high priestess was well out of reach, panting and writhing in her afterglow on a very large, reclining chair. Her legs were hooked over the cushioned arm rests, her right foot twitching now and again as her toes slowly unfurled.

"Gods," Quilin said, looking around the room as the shadowstuff dispersed into smokey nothingness. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Caylin said, watching as Ravin lithely dismounted the young Torvirr warrior. "Lady Louhi, the Black Bride, manifested through my ecstasy."

"Does she do that every time?" Quilin asked.

"No," Ravin said, but quickly said, "well, maybe. The last time I witnessed that one have an orgasm, we were swimming in the shadows of the Fane of the Black Bride."

Caylin giggled. "No, not every time," she said. "But there is powerful magic here. In you."

She pointed to Quilin, who arched a brow. "Me?"

"Son of two living, breathing divine beings," Ravin said, patting his chest as she leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Syrune and Alizarin both count you as grandson, I'm certain."

Quilin shook his head, but the marks on his flesh itched in that moment. What he had come to call the Kiss of Syrune and the Crimson Kiss, the marks of Syrune and Alizarin that had been with him since birth, had never conveyed any noticeable magic to him, but perhaps this priestess was right about him.

He shrugged it off. "I need no magic," he told himself.

Ravin looked down at her lover, who had still not moved from his place on the bed, she shook her head. He was troubled in ways he didn't even know, and she wondered if, and how, that would manifest in the days, weeks, months, and years to come. However long he was a member of the Ravinwolf Guild, she knew she wanted to keep an eye on him.

"Get some rest," she told him. "Today was a big day. Tonight will be even bigger. You jump from the sky at nightfall.

"Caylin, join me?" she offered, extending her hand to the priestess. The pale-skinned human took up her thin robe, haphazardly covering herself as she left Ravin's private room in Amethystra.

Quilin was asleep before the door closed.

Whatever shall we do with him?

He is beloved. We must protect.

That is outside of your purview.

Quilin awoke with a start. He was lost, floating in a sea of silvery mist, twinkling lights—stars?—and prismatic streams of light off in the distance. He felt his bare feet touch a solid surface beneath him, warm and pleasant to the touch. The words echoed in his mind. Beloved? Protect? Why?