Chronicles of Hemlear Pt. 01

"When we have the time, I'll happily pick this up right where we left off, Shaara." She said wistfully. It had been a long time since she had been with another woman, and she thought Shaara might just give her enough rough treatment to make it worth-while.

"I look forward to it." The warrior said with a smile right back at her, her hand came up and caressed Averill's face, her fingertips brushing her ear and making the half-elf shudder in suppressed lust. "But you should really get some sleep. We'll be at a campground with a bathing pool tomorrow and I'm sure we can get some time together."

Averill kissed her softly once more and moved off to her bedroll, the ache between her thighs even worse and she was sure to have dreams that would defeat the purpose of sleep entirely. But she was glad for the distraction, and glad she wouldn't have to rely on Drogan to fill her needs.

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Averill spent the next few days riding almost due south with the group, getting to know each of them in turn and liking the five of them more and more. Even Drogan had relaxed and accepted her, taking the good natured ribbing from his comrades about paying her like she was a mattress warmer. He had yet to apologize and as they had gotten ready that morning he had tried to corner her again only to be cut off by Shaara and given a look that told him, in no uncertain terms, that Averill was, if not off limits, then certainly to be respected. Drogan seemed to respect the warrior-maiden enough to take the warning and keep his distance and begin treating Averill more as a companion and equal than as a mate and a conquest.

An early stop at the end of their first day of travel put them at a small grotto set up by druids in the area as a safe rest place for travellers through the woods, minimizing the contact with the wild animals that lived in this area. Ward stones about the clearing kept all but the most aggressive animals away, even Nylla's mount, the great hound Hardor would not cross into the clearing, but he prowled about the perimeter watching for any animals aggressive enough to cross the boundary. Satisfied that they were safe here, they forewent watches for that night and the group spent time going to the pool in twos and threes for baths and relaxation. Drogan and Aeric as the only men in the group went last, with Nylla and Alyth getting to wash first.

Averill and Shaara took their turn as the Halfling and the young sorceress walked back from the pool, Alyth's long, white-blonde hair slick and wet but she was dressed neatly in clean robes and slippers while Nylla was wearing the same leathers that she had worn down to the bath. Shaara carried a small roll of soap and cloth with her and Averill got her own kit out and followed the taller human down the short path to the sheltered pool and paused looking over the area. The wide space in the stream was clearly artificial, with slabs of rock damming the flow enough for a pool to form around the raised grassy base of a tall willow tree. The low hanging branches formed something of a curtain around the water and Shaara laid her towel out and began stripping out of her leathers. Averill moved not too far away and did the same, pulling off her boots and setting them carefully with her belts on the soft grassy shore as she watched Shaara.

The tall human was hard in just the right places, with well defined muscles all down her abdomen, Averill could pick out eight distinct groups and she could see that while her belly and arms and legs were hard muscle, Shaara was still feminine. A trimmed patch of red hair rested between her legs and as she let her hair down Averill saw the strip of spikes that was braided into it and also that the red locks were nearly to her backside, long and flowing in waves from the braid. Shaara turned and looked at her and smiled, unashamed in her nudity as she padded silently over to Averill and watched as she undressed, setting aside her leathers and standing almost six inches shorter than the warrior maiden. Where Shaara had full breasts that seemed almost small on her frame, Averill had a generous bust and full womanly curves. Despite the difference in their heights, Averill felt comfortable with the tall human and as Shaara bent down a little, Averill turned her face up and met the kiss half way, their bodies pressing together and Averill felt the warm, strong hands cupping her breasts as Shaara worked her mouth against the full lips of the half-elf.

Averill parted her lips with a moan and Shaara slipped her tongue between them, teasing Averill's and the half-elf slipped her hands up and down the warrior's body, caressing her legs and back and bottom, the flesh firm but soft as they kissed. Finally the pair parted and Shaara smiled wickedly at Averill as one hand cupped a breast, her thumb rubbing at a hardened nipple and the other caressed her neck and cheek and shoulder, the tips of her fingers stroking along the sensitive backside of her ear each time and making Averill sigh as her breath caught and her back arched, pressing her closer to the other woman, more tightly into the caress and her hands clutched at her back, her legs parting and Averill felt Shaara's thigh as her leg came up to press against her waiting, needy sex. Her whole body jolted at the contact and Shaara laughed, a low, throaty sound full of lust and amusement at Averill's reaction.

"My, you are a lusty one, aren't you?" she asked softly and Averill just clung to her as the thigh pressing against her sex shifted and the hand at her breast caressed and fondled her.

That familiar ache was back, that clenching of her pussy and the tingling/aching up and down her spine as she already felt close to release. Shaara was strong and suddenly Averill felt herself laid back on the cool grass and the warrior was over her, bodies pressed together, breasts crushed against the taller woman as the riot of her hair fell all around them and their lips came back together with the sort of strong kiss that Averill craved, her hands clutching at the warriors hard back and when Shaara broke the kiss, Averill moaned in protest, but the warrior just chuckled and moved down her body, kissing her neck and jaw, nibbling at her ears and moving down to place soft kisses across her collarbones and the slopes of her breasts, carefully ignoring her nipples as a hand came up between her legs, cupping her bare sex and caressing her soft, wet folds carefully but skillfully. Averill's back arched and she pressed her flesh into the hungry mouth feasting at her breast as the strong, sure hand rubbed at her folds and freed the pearl of her clit to roll gently between long, strong fingers.

It was a lot happening all at once and Averill was powerless against it, even as Shaara moved down again, her mouth descending across Averill's flat tummy, kissing and licking, and latched onto her gushing sex, making her moan and writhe in pleasure, an orgasm just a hair's breadth away as Shaara delved with her tongue and lapped at her juices. Still Averill needed more; she wanted the woman to stop acting like she was a porcelain doll, to let her have what she craved and needed.

"More..." She begged, hips grinding around and her hands clutching and squeezing her own breasts, fingers tweaking her nipples hard as she gasped for breath, unable to climax with this gentle treatment. "Harder... please..." She moaned, a whine coming to her voice and Shaara looked up at her with a quirked eyebrow. "I'm not a doll, Shaara, you won't hurt me." Averill whispered.

The warrior maiden smirked and shifted, kneeling and gathering Averill's legs up, almost folding her in half as the taller human shifted and slipped a leg under her and the other across her tummy. Averill watched, eyes wide and breath coming in gasps as Shaara brought her hips down and their sex came together, a slapping sound making her gasp as Shaara ground her hips and rubbed her pussy against Averill's hard, hard enough almost to bruise as she reached for a hand. Averill reached back and they laced fingers and pulled each other together, the force of it pushing Averill over the edge and she moaned and sobbed in release, the tingle shooting up her spine turned instantly to a burning line of pain and lust and Averill moaned as her shoulders clenched painfully and her mouth throbbed as the two women ground together hard. Averill could feel the flare of pleasure she got in her sex when she was in mid-coitus, and she sobbed in joy as the wave of pleasure resonated through her, centring on her core, but with a sharp pang in her breast and another at her wrist as a second orgasm crashed over her.

Shaara panted and ground her hips around, watching Averill and smiling as her own pleasure built up. The tall warrior rubbed at her own slit, caressing her lips through the red tangle of pubic hair and moaned as she felt the first wave of her pleasure. As it crashed over her she fell back amid the soft grass and gasped in joy at the feeling. The pair of them lay together like that for a while before Shaara disentangled herself from Averill and cat-crawled up to kiss the half-elf passionately, hand cupping her generous, soft breast and moaning as Averill kissed her back, a smile curling her mouth as her hands explored the warrior maid.

They lay on the grass for a while like that before moving to bathe, not wanting anyone to get suspicious of their activities, but they spent their time in the pool kissing and caressing each other as they washed, scrubbing with the hearty soap that adventurers carried and the white sand from the bottom of the pool before they got out and dressed, chatting softly and sharing little kisses and smiles before returning to the camp.

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Nylla smiled a conspiratorial smile with them as they returned so the men could have their wash, but said nothing to Alyth, the young sorceress none the wiser as she sat in a hammock set up by her twin to study her spells and she was enjoying the sunshine, her hood thrown back and her pale white hair streaming in the wind. She was a curiosity to Averill, and the half-elf went over to speak with her.

"Alyth, how go your studies?" She asked with a friendly smile and Alyth looked up and smiled back a little shyly, her hand shifting and a large quartz crystal vanishing into an inner pocket.

"I'm still largely a novice, but I learn quickly." She said, not really bragging and Averill thought the young sorceress was blushing as she spoke, maintaining eye contact and being friendly and polite. "Aeric brought me along on his adventure because he said I could learn a lot." Her voice was soft and quiet as she spoke, her mismatched eyes were clear and Averill saw the intelligence and quick mind behind them, this young woman grasped things more quickly and completely than most people did. Alyth had a solid grasp of the things going on around her and she was very focused on whatever task was at hand.

"That's good to know. My mother was a spellcaster," Averill lied "and an adventurer as well, so magic has always been a fascination of mine."

"Oh! Are you close with your mother?" The young woman asked and Averill smiled but shook her head.

"No, my mother is an elf, and I am not welcome among her people. I haven't seen her in perhaps thirty years. I was just a mistake she made and she left me with my father soon after I was born." It sounded hurtful when Averill said it, but really she didn't see it that way. Pregnancy was always a risk with sex, and she hardly blamed her mother for not wanting the stigma of bringing a half-breed child among her own people.

She chatted a bit with the young sorceress, imparting that she was sixty three summers old when asked her age and seeing the shock as the young human tried to grasp it. Averill looked perhaps twenty in human years and she didn't have the heart to tell Alyth that for an elf she was barely an adolescent, and wouldn't be considered an adult for almost four more decades. But elves were nigh immortal, many as much as two or three thousand years of age before they chose even to have children. And short of violent death, elves never died. Some chose to enter into the long sleep for a time, especially those who had seen tragedy and war, but that was a peaceful transformation, allowing the body to rest while the mind wandered away from the world of mortals and into a higher plane where there was no war or violence or plague or hatred.

Half-elves didn't live nearly as long, but Averill could still expect three centuries of adult life before she was too old to adventure any longer, though she would likely retire far before she reached that age. Some half-elves could enter the long sleep, though they were rare and usually had spent much of their lives trying to fit in among their elfin parents. Some of the greatest of heroes from the past ages were of mixed parentage, with half-elves and half-orcs being most prominent and often shunned by their pureblood parents. Though the occasional half-halfling, often called fliir by their halfling parents were hardly unheard of. And among all of the races, the Halflings were most accepting of their cross-breed children. Taller and often stronger than their Halfling parents, the fliir were accepted and welcome among the halfling communities, and were treated no differently than any other child of their people.

As she returned to her place by the fire, preparing to sharpen and care for her weapons and equipment, Drogan and Aeric returned from their bath and the orc gave her a long, assessing stare which she allowed for the moment, her earlier tryst with Shaara had been satisfying, but she still craved something between her legs. As skilled as the plainswoman was she lacked a single intrinsic thing that made sex complete. And Averill needed to be filled, but she wasn't ready to let the orc know that she needed that just yet. She wanted to let him sweat it out, wanted to let him know she wasn't his mate and he wasn't going to make her a plaything. When they had sex again, and they would, it would be on her terms. His gaze lingered and she saw his nostrils flare, she traced his gaze and saw the fresh, dark purple love bite at the top of her right breast. Shaara had a self-satisfied look on her face, smug and confident and Drogan turned away and tried to ignore them both, though Averill could see him watching from his peripheral vision.

She turned away from him and moved over to where the other two women were sitting, the Halfling dressing some hides from the animals she had felled on their trek and Shaara fletching arrows with a little pot of resin and a bundle of shafts. Settling into her place, Averill pulled her boots off and extended her bare feet toward the fire and relaxing in the grass with her back to a log and she rolled out her tools in her lap, turning down the tops of her boots to access the ones hidden there, removing her weapons belts to access the ones hidden there and taking the little leather sachet out of her hair to access the ones hidden there and drawing stares from the other women.

"You never know when a pick will come in handy, or where you might be searched by guards or bandits." She explained with a smug grin.

She spent a while showing them the roll and explaining what most of her tools were used for as she checked them and oiled them and carefully made sure each was in the place that it was supposed to be in. She went as far as closing her eyes and touching each and every one and naming them off blind to show how well she knew her tools before she put them carefully away.

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They slept well that night and moved on down the road the next day. They were making good time and they topped a rise to look out over the Frontier at the southern extent of the civilized lands. There was a broad sweep of forested land and mountains in the far hazy distance, with spires and towers poking up, most vine-choked and several with trees growing out of them for as far as the eye could see and from horizon to horizon. This was the southern Frontier, the lost cities and ancient, forgotten remnants of the civilization that had come before all that the world was now. With strange stones and sheets of glass that were mirrored silver on one side, yet could be seen through from the other, unknown metals and strange devices that most were wise enough to leave alone.

Fortunes could be made in a day on the Frontier, but at the same time hundreds... thousands... had gone into those forests over the years never to be seen again. Averill had heard of delvers who had climbed the great towers and seen farther into the lands than anyone had ever gone, claiming that the very land deep within the Frontier was alive, that it moved with terrible purpose and consumed all that came within its grasp. She had seen the blasted lands, a barren plain of dust and salt that stretched on for more than a thousand miles. None had ever gone in and returned to tell of it, and the mountains that ringed the bowl of dust were steep and fraught with some of the worst perils of the entire Frontier. None she had ever spoken to had been into those mountains, but she knew that that they were as tall as the sky. The Frontier had many legends, and among them was a coven of female vampires that killed men and made women vanish.

Averill gave a little shiver at the thought, at the fever dream she had suffered and at the knowledge that she could almost see the misty road in Bayford where she had caught that fever in her mind, could almost hear the raspy whisper of...

...Lillethe...

...the monster in her dreams as she looked out over the Frontier again. The group of them moved on to a walled outpost manned by hard-faced mercenaries. They could stable their horses and Nylla's hound there for a small fee. The frontier was too dangerous to take them along, and the outpost boasted a stream and a trading post where adventurers could restock supplies... for a price. Averill knew that the ones who truly got wealthy along the frontier were rarely the adventurers, it was those who supplied them. But it was a last safe place to sleep before the y trekked on past the margelands and into the trackless forest, a place that was walled and guarded against creatures from the frontier that might come out hunting for easy prey. Averill had cooking duty that night and she made use of the fire pit in their corner of the outpost to roast four hares before she settled in to sleep, leaving the watch that night to the outpost guards.

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Her dreams that night were vivid, three figures watching from the shadows in the trees, three women, two tall one short, all graceful and pale stood and watched, waiting. They whispered things to her, knowledge that if a cleric of Altaer broke his vow of celibacy that he would lose his powers, knowledge that without a certain charm kept on her person a sorceress could not cast her spells. It was disturbing knowledge and yet, Averill still found Aeric very attractive, and that attraction was soon centered in her mind, thoughts of the half-orc pushed aside and her desire to be filled now centered on Aeric. She was told of a certain weed that if she rubbed her skin with it, the half-orc would find her unattractive to say the least. The smell repulsed orcs and was worse than rotting meat to them. The memories of what she had been told faded and all that remained was an ongoing fantasy of Aeric, and the knowledge that certain herbs mixed with his food would cause him to become almost painfully aroused and yet render him close to insensate.

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She woke from her sleep feeling that ache down her spine and along the teeth in her jaw as she yawned and stretched and moved around the outpost, the need in her loins to be filled was strong and she gazed at Drogan, wondering for a moment if she could wake him for a midnight tryst. But she felt a sudden surge of disgust at the thought, and of having to endure his filthy stink. She curled her lip up, the very idea disgusting her. Then she saw the sleeping face of Aeric sleeping in the dark of the night. He was lovely for a human, with smooth skin and handsome features, his blonde hair slightly curling and clean, his scent one of leather and soap and honest sweat and she stared at him for a while with her infatuation growing and the ache in her sex sharp and all-consuming. She turned away from the group and went to the trading post, where the merchant that night yawned as he watched her with one watery, drowsy eye as she selected a few different herbs from among the small offerings there. Once she had paid, she went outside and rubbed one of the plants vigorously in her hair and especially on and around her ears without really realizing it and the rest she placed in a small pouch at her side.