Lurking in the Ruins

Lurking in the Ruins

Carin knew it was an awful risk delving so deep into the Creeplands. The Spawn were everywhere, in the sense they could appear when least expected. Nowhere was safe, even if there seemed to be no danger for miles.

But there was a great deal of wealth to be found in the lands of the Spawn, if one knew where to look. Old burial grounds from when people lived quietly centuries ago often had good trinkets to take, though selling them wasn't always easy given the disapproval of graverobbing.

The forts left over from the Crusades, on the other hand, they were more than acceptable for pilfering, if one could brave them.

There were dozens across the Creeplands, though most had more thoroughly decayed given their rapidly constructed nature; only a handful of more permanently minded fortresses were ever built, and the ones made of wood no longer existed.

But the ones made of stone, their remains could still be found, crumbling grey eyesores in more pristine environments... or on the borderlands of the Creeplands, where the corrupting veins of dark, inky Creep snaked across the land, slowly encroaching on the landscape.

Either way, Carin knew they often had valuables in them; old weapons that withstood the toll of time, or treasures brought by soldiers and knights and officers, left behind when the forts were abandoned.

She knew of the hazards too, and not just the Spawn that liked to lurk in the ruins, waiting for careless adventurers to cross their path. The dilapidated structures themselves -- piles of old stone, rotten wood planks, all of which were ready to give way at a moment's notice, when the time was most inopportune -- were perilous.

Luck went hand in hand with experience in such places, Carin believed, as she even now clambered up a pile of stone bricks, the remains of a long collapsed wall, allowing her to climb the berm surrounding the fort up to the breach, the remaining sections of the wall rising up to either side, connected to towers, the one on the left partially collapsed and forming its own debris pile that spilled down the berm beneath it.

Carin paused for breath, and looked up at the sky; it was sunny when she arrived, but clouds were moving in now. She couldn't be certain if it would just become overcast or if a storm was on its way, but it meant she needed to leave soon regardless.

And she just got to the fort. It'd have to be a quick looting.

If the cloud cover became thick enough, the likelihood of her being assailed by Spawn increased.

And she knew her dark grey and brown leathers and thick cotton cloak would offer little defence against them. They were for weather and hazard protection, not protecting her from Spawn. She had boots with deep tread for traction, and gloves made of leather and cotton, fitted with studs made of a different kind of leather for grip.

It helped her climb walls and collapsed stone in ruins all the time, and let her avoid a few bruises -- or only leave with bruises instead of open gashes -- and other minor injuries.

She sighed, and resumed her climb until she was at the top of the breach.

Now that she was able to look into the bailey, she could see its layout was fairly mundane; there were several wooden structures -- most almost rotten from the elements -- that would've once been a stables, a smithy's shop, a small guard house, and more. All of those arrayed around the inner bases of the walls. A gatehouse marked the 'front' of the fort, but Carin hadn't gone through it, as it too had collapsed and become almost impossible to pass.

Across from it, against the 'back' of the fort was the main keep, and like the gatehouse and the section of wall Carin climbed through, it too had partially collapsed... or rather, on one side, the entire face of the structure had come down, revealing still-standing floors with furniture and bedding, perhaps the barracks of the fort.

That's one of the places she was likely to find good treasures.

She climbed down from the top of the breach and looked around, keeping an eye on the shadows; there wasn't much here anymore, but what one didn't see was what one should fear the most.

She frowned, and readjusted the hide rucksack slung on her back, worrying a dagger sheathed on her hip, just in case.

She strolled across the bailey, feeling the dirt crunch beneath her boots. The sun cooled atop her hood, and the scavenger knew she'd have to be quick.

She started the climb up the pile of stone leading to the middle levels of the keep, at least what were exposed to the open.

As she climbed, a stone she went to grab came loose and tumbled down the pile with a clattering sound. A grinding cracking followed, as the pile decided whether or not it'd remain stable. Carin was still for a good moment, before things finally seemed to stabilise.

She let out a sigh, and resumed her ascent, albeit more slowly than before.

Carin knew how dangerous this was... but she couldn't ignore the allure. The thrill of the hazards, the curiosity to explore long-forgotten domains, and the excitement of finding something worth coin.

It was what brought her back time and time again, despite the small scar above her right eye she'd gotten doing this adventurous looting.

She couldn't stop, and she wouldn't until something made her stop.

Another stone came loose and tumbled down the tremendous pile of ruined brickwork, but it did not seem to bother the pile, so Carin kept going until she was on the wooden and stone floor of the second floor of the keep.

She was tentative with her steps, intuitively knowing from experience where the floor was weakest, and most stable.

Though the important part was accepting that it was all weak and liable to collapse. As long as she accepted that, she could make the calculated risks.

There were a few beds towards the back of the room, and some of them had chests at their feet.

Carin made her way over, avoiding a hole in the floor that, upon a glance upwards, revealed a hole in the floor above, and holes all the way to the roof, as though something had punched all the way through from high above.

She inched towards the beds, until she felt a bit more confident in the stability of the surface she stood on, and moved a bit faster until she was crouching before them.

She opened it up, and scrunched her nose up in disgust; someone had left food in the chest, lots of it. Though it didn't have a pungent odour of rot, the stale smell of long-decayed and desiccated food was still terribly unpleasant.

She rifled through the chest, noting the cloth bags inside were what contained the food, and they were all stained through.

There was nothing of value, so she shut the chest and moved onto the next.

She heard thunder in the distance, and knew then that a storm was indeed on its way, though the faint rumble meant it was a ways off.

It was the sound of stone tumbling down stone that made her pause.

She looked up, back towards the space opening up to the outside.

Nothing was there, but it made her uneasy.

Carin shook her head as though trying to shake fearful thoughts from her, and started searching through the next chest, and immediately found a coin purse.

Her eyes lit up, and she plucked it from the chest, tearing off the badly decayed string -- practically disintegrating in her gloves -- and checked inside.

Sure enough, there were old Bronze Tallies inside. Likely not acceptable currency anymore, but they were still valuable to the right people, and some paid for good bronze, and old Tallies were made of high-quality bronze, unlike many of the currencies in current mint.

She pulled a small bag out of her ruck and poured the old Tallies into them, and placed the now filled bag back into her ruck. She checked the rest of the chest, but found nothing valuable inside, so she moved onto the next.

She found it was locked, but she didn't need the key. Or to pick the lock. She simply grabbed the old, rusted latch, and with some force and a grunt of effort, snapped it off.

The chest opened, and she immediately came face to face with herself, looking upon an old silver mirror that still possessed its shine.

She spent a while looking at her face, a little dusty from trekking across the land to the fort. The pink scar above her left eye gave her a slightly fierce look, and she knew it intimidated people when she scowled. She used it to her advantage.

Her eyes themselves were a dull aquamarine, but one time, she had a scavenger partner tell her they twinkled when she found loot.

Her lips were thin, and slightly cracked from the dry air... she really needed to drink more water. Her features were also angular, one woman describing them as hawkish.

Yet still she had some feminine charm, because men, drunk or not, hit on her all the time at bars. She turned them all down, and sometimes had to draw her dagger on them to make the point... with a sharp point.

Messy brunette hair clung to her scalp beneath her hood, the stringy hair normally neck-length.

She really did look like the picture of hardened adventuress.

Carin smirked and picked up the silver mirror, placing it in her ruck, though it was a little big for her bag.

Still, if she had to leave now, she at least had something to show for it. Which may have been for the best, because the storm sounded like it was drawing nearer.

It got darker as the thicker clouds covered the sun, casting the world in a dim, eerie light. She went to check one of the last chests, when she heard a creaking sound.

She whipped her head up, and saw nothing. She frowned this time; her gut said it wasn't nothing. Her hand went to her dagger, and she decided that perhaps she'd lingered long enough.

Another part of being a successful scavenger was knowing when to cut one's losses. She'd already gained on this trip, so she had no reason to stay if external influences became a bigger problem.

She adjusted her ruck, and turned towards the opening into the outside, ready to make the climb back down to the ground.

Then a black, inky arm clawed over the edge of the broken floor, hauling up a creature behind it.

She froze and grimaced, hand going to her sheathed dagger as she watched this thing pull itself up, growling softly.

It was dark, like it was made of oil, and muscular. It had an elongated head, vaguely reptilian, but it was hard to really make out any definite features, beyond lips that curled into a snarl, revealing a slathering maw and black teeth.

In fact, everything about it was black and inky. The only thing that wasn't were its beady eyes, which glowed with a dull blue light.

It dropped to all fours, looking like it was vaguely humanoid but far more comfortable in this more bestial posture.

Its muscular limbs ended in hands and feet that had thick, long digits tipped with sharp but stumpy claws. Not terribly long but dangerous enough.

It had a long tail, thick but dexterous that slowly curled in the air behind it, though sometimes it twitched with a sudden jerking.

It had a strange smell. Sweet and musky simultaneously.

Carin was warned about this, about the creatures of the spawn possessing an oddly alluring scent.

Though this one creepy lady had suggested they were alluring for other reasons. Carin was certain that bitch knew more than she let on... but it didn't matter to her right now.

She slowly drew her dagger, knuckles tight and white around its leather-bound hilt.

The blade was half a foot in length, with a shallow groove running down the middle, ending an inch towards the point.

It had a simple iron crossguard with leather wrapping for added comfort, but beyond that, the dagger was hardly a special item.

It did what it needed to.

But Carin wasn't sure it would be able to here.

She looked to her sides, searching out an escape. To her left, she spied a half-crumbled archway leading into a stairwell, a spiral staircase leading up and down. Either she could get down to the ground from there, or rise to a higher floor and attempt to ambush the creature as it came for her.

It lunged at her, thus making her decision for her. She slashed in the air at the creature, though mostly to keep it at bay whilst she leapt to her left, making a dash for the stairwell.

The wooden floor creaked perilously beneath her footfalls, a few ominous cracks filling her with concern, though not more than what she felt towards the monster.

She got to the stairwell, and quickly realised going down wasn't an option, the stairs below collapsed. Going up though, the steps seemed sturdy and intact.

She heard the creature growl, a wet, guttural sound as it gave chase.

She grimaced, and bound up the stone steps as quickly as she could, the monster close behind, its claws scrabbling against the stone.

Carin cursed the design of the spiral staircase, knowing it was meant to make an attacker's life difficult, which meant going up was a pain. But she couldn't turn around yet, or she'd likely be caught before she had a chance to take it to the spawn whilst she did.

Eventually, she emerged at the top, on the floor above. There was more furniture here, even a few chests, looking like an old storage room.

It would've been a great place to explore, if she had more time. Instead, she had to make her stand here.

Carin moved to the side of the archway, waiting for the creature with knife in hand.

It scrambled up the steps after her, and she attempted to drive her blade into its body as it surged through the opening.

Her aim was poor, only managing to graze its back.

Black, inky blood or something like it coated one edge of the blade and dripped to the ground, and it let out an angry growl, almost like a roar, like it was cursing her.

She grit her teeth, and attempted to drive her knife down into its back, but it was faster this time, lunging into her, tackling her with enough force to knock the blade from her hand and her ruck from her back, the bag thumping to the floor, the blade clattering across the wooden panels.

Its momentum carried it over her as she was laid out on the floor. A winded grunt left her as she rolled onto her gut. Then, she saw the blade near the edge of the floor, where it gave way to the void of the outside.

Carin attempted to crawl for it, but her attempt was cut short when her hand was a mere foot from the weapon, the creature rolling her onto her back and pinning her down with its bulk.

She shouted and cursed, attempting to kick the creature off of her, but it was no use, it was far too strong for her. She couldn't get the right angle to kick at it, and it held one arm down with a great, clawed hand, whilst it did the same to her opposite shoulder, keeping her constrained.

It didn't take long for her to realise she'd lost, starting to huff in both fear and defiance, glaring at it with a slight tilt to her head.

She was at its mercy now, and wanted it to get it over with.

But it simply looked at her, looking her over, breathing out softly, washing her face with that intoxicating aroma, making her grunt out in response.

Then it ran a long, thick tongue across her face, leaving behind a film of grey-tinged saliva. She reacted in disgust, voicing it as she tried to turn her head away. It breathed out again, right in her face, and she winced; normally a beast like this should have possessed truly rancid breath, but it was unpleasantly tantalising. A smell she couldn't quite describe, but found worryingly alluring.

It licked her again, making her whimper, though there were strong tones of defiance. Only, this lick was slower and firmer, as if the creature was enjoying it.

She felt something nudge her belly below, but she didn't have a chance to see what before it suddenly rolled her over, away from the edge, and pulled her onto her hands and knees, looming over her, its body weighing against her back.

"What the hell are you doing!?" she demanded... and then felt one of its great hands cup one of her breasts, prompting her to gasp.

It squeezed gently, and began to fondle her globe with a desirous attention, and it was then she realised its intent.

She couldn't quite believe it, the tales hadn't mentioned anything about this.

Except, of course, those insane rumours... of the Spawn being beasts of lust.

Perhaps they weren't so insane after all, feeling it start to grind its hips against her rear... and Carin could feel something hard pressing into her cheeks through her pants.

A strong, musky aroma began to pervade the air immediately around her, and it continued to breathe out against her face, soft, bestial inhalations possessing that enticing scent... only now, it seemed stronger, and she let out a pant involuntarily.

For some reason, her defiant spirit had been dulled a little. But fear and despair didn't give way to it... she couldn't quite describe what she was feeling.

Only that, if it didn't plan on killing her or crippling her, then she was ready to endure this violation.

She just wish its touch to her breast wasn't starting to get to her, as well as that musky aroma.

It made her feel hot.

She let out another pant, but then yelped when she felt it shift, and use its other hand to rather roughly pull down her pants and underwear, exposing her rump and her nethers to the cool air.

It ripped a gasp from her mouth, and another when the hand groping her breast released momentarily to tug her garb up roughly, taking off her cloak and tossing it aside, and exposing her breasts. Her hair hung down now that it was free.

Carin's figure was largely revealed, slender if a little athletic, with ample breasts and a modestly shapely rump, honed from her strenuous activities and livelihood. The Spawn seemed to growl in appreciation for her.

Then she felt its cock slide up between her glutes, utterly slimy and throbbing with need.

She felt disgusted, but she also felt that this may yet turn out better for her. As long as it didn't kill her after, or mutilate her in the process, then she could walk away from this.

If those rumours were true, of course, then survival was guaranteed... they never made mention of people dying afterwards.

All the same, this beast wasn't getting it over with... it was touching her, rubbing itself to her, feeling itself against her.

It slowly rutted its member between her cheeks, covering each glute in a film of slimy ooze. It massaged and fondled her breasts in turn with one hand, whilst using the other to support itself.

She could feel its hot breath washing over one side of her face, making it even harder to feel dismay at the situation. What the hell was in its breath that made her feel so hot?

She grit her teeth, enduring the humiliation, though it wasn't as extreme as it should've been... a combination of her defiance, her penchant for dealing with things as they come, and whatever was in its breath and musk.

Carin still struggled from time to time, but it was pointless; with the creature mounted, its weight kept her pinned on her hands and knees.

Soon, the cleft between her glutes was thoroughly soaked by its slimy dick, which seemed to both secrete an inky substance from its skin, and ooze precum from its tip.

Her breasts began to feel wet too, that great big claw secreting the same dark substance from its palm.

She wondered if it was similar to whatever was on its tongue, especially when it licked the side of her face again, making her shy away from the sloppy, dexterous muscle whenever she could.

Then, it slid its hips back, and she felt its cock slide down her glutes, graze over her sphincter... and then press against her vulva.

She tensed up, waiting for the moment it forced itself inside of her. She knew it was going to be rough, its cock was no small thing.