Perils of Adventure Ch. 00 - Prologue

"So," the younger man drawled undeterred. "My cousin had one of his brats run off to join her temple a few years back. He tells me that old prude insists on all her priestesses staying cherry." At that news, the other drunks at last grunted in appreciation and turned their eyes on the willowy blonde.

"Is that so?" the second mused. "Well, gimme a night to break er in and she won't be so pure come morn." A moment later he snorted, adding "Maybe then she'll grow some damn knockers."

It was in the wake of that particular jest that the trio's circuitous debate was at long last interrupted by the Sheep's magnanimous owner and barkeep, himself a rather harried man whose own shaggy mane was just starting to fade to a dignified gray, as he meandered over with a pitcher in his hand. At the sight of the three regulars still leering at the pack of adventuresses same as they had been for an hour at least, he just shook his head and began to refill the first drunk's empty mug. "You louts still on about those girls?" he chuckled, tapping his most reliable customer on the shoulder once his mug was full again. "How much more can the three of you have to say?"

"Ack, you know us, Thad," the freshly fueled drunkard grinned after taking a long pull from his mug. That comment could hardly have been more true. For years the trio had spent their every evening in the Sheep, appearing some time late in the afternoon with all the inevitable regularity of the sun rising in the East. Such regular patronage had given the barman more chances than he could count to familiarize himself with their various predilections on everything from mead and music to mates. "Ain't nothing in this here world like a fine piece a tail to keep a man happy. Say," the old man reluctantly tore his eyes off the beauties in question to turn and glance back at his host. "Which of em d'ya fancy, eh keep?"

The veteran tavernmaster just grinned at the same question he had faced the last two times he dropped off fresh rounds. His tenure running the Sleepy Sheep had long since taught him how best to straddle the fine line between humouring the sort of characters that regularly propped up his bar and encouraging them. That was not to say the unexpected appearance of such delectable morsels as our would-be heroines had failed to stir any fire in his loins for it most certainly had, simply that unlike so many of his customers he was wise enough to keep his lusts to himself. So instead of singling out the maiden who had indeed caught his eye, he chose to fend off the query with a jest and a smile, same as always. "Easy, I'll take whichever one keeps buying their beer. Those girls have been drinking like fish."

"Five pieces say keep fancies the elfy one," the middle geezer floated, his friends knowing full well he'd never pay up even if they took the bet. It was no secret that Dev hadn't made good on a wager since the days when his hair was still black. "We all seen the scrawny girls workin round here, and what man don't get hard lookin at them pointy little ears."

"She certainly is easy on the eyes, that one," the bartender admitted with a quiet chuckle, allowing himself to steal a quick glance across his tavern at the archer in question. "But I've got my own pretty lady back home, gents."

"Aye, you're a lucky one, Thad," the third drunk nodded. It was true, running a thriving establishment like the Sleepy Sheep had made their host one of the wealthiest men around. Wealthy enough to make courting his pick of the local maidens an easy task. Naturally, that had been a task the barkeep had taken to with relish, sampling a few local girls before settling down with a fetching blonde a decade his junior who was even then off nursing their youngest somewhere while she waited to preform her wifely duties upon his return home at the end of the evening. Little did she know she was about to be on the receiving end of the most enthusiastic session of lovemaking the couple had shared since their wedding night.

"Oh, lookit boys," the second drunk's voice suddenly called out, "them other two are back." Sure enough two more young women were approaching the table, the pair weaving their way through the crowded tavern clutching a few mugs each. The one leading their way was tall and graceful, a blue-eyed blonde with a face fit to melt the coldest of hearts. She wore simple but elegant traveling garb and an ornately decorated lute was visible strapped across her back. The tavern's myriad host of drunken revelers had no way to know, at least not yet, but any base desires they might feel towards the blonde's elegant form were as dust to stone compared to what they would feel should they ever be lucky enough to hear her low, smoky voice break out in song. All the same, it was her alluring charms that were destined to inspire a night of unrivaled passions in her host's marital bed, to say nothing of his next child.

It was the other girl to whom the drunks' attention was drawn first, though. She was the shortest of the six travelers, her youthful figure possessing all the lithe athleticism of a dancer or an acrobat. Her dark hair was cut short and choppy, allowed to bounce wildly around a face that the three regulars looking on had yet to see unadorned with a playful smirk. That mischievous expression might have been her default for many a year, but it is with a heavy heart I fear the coming days would all but put it to rest. For the moment, though, she remained carefree, a temptress inspiring the lusts of many a man who saw her. Helping to draw so many eyes was the fact she wore the least of any member of her company, just a simple outfit of tight leather which left bare her midriff, her arms, and her knees above a pair of sturdy old boots.

The third, slightly younger regular blew out his breath wistfully as he nodded towards the smaller girl. "Now that scruffy one, she's the one for me." His lips twisted upwards on one side at the thought of getting his hands on the young adventuress. "I love the little tomboys like that. They all think they're so tough and clever, but you strip 'em down, plug up their tight little asses..." he let out a long whistle as he grinned "Then they'll squirm and squeal like the best whores."

"If ya say so," the first drunk drawled, eyes rolling at the reminder of his friend's tastes. Dev never had understood any man who was drawn to a girl without enough cleavage to fit a cock in. "I'll stick to wenches what actually looks like one. Like that blondie," he gestured towards the girl in question. "It'd be real fun makin 'er sing fer me."

Behind the freshly distracted trio the tavernmaster just shook his head hearing their conversation return to where it had been mired the last time he stopped by. As he turned to move on towards another group of patrons in need of refills he snorted, eternally amused by the thought of any of the three old leches actually managing to bed a girl as fine as even the least of those six young women.

Returning to the sextet of adventuresses who had caused such a stir in The Sleepy Sheep, the arrival of the last two members with the company's final round of drinks for the evening was greeted quite appreciatively indeed by their waiting comrades. The tall leader accepted her drink without a word, but her scowl lessened noticeably as she accepted a mug from the minstrel, closed her eyes, and took a long drink. And considering the mood her latest extended argument with the most stubborn rival she'd ever butted heads with had left her in, such a response might as well have been a declaration of love. To her side the archer also received a mug from the blonde newcomer, though hers was promptly set aside as she continued to pore over their map.

When, just a moment later, the short-haired girl arrived, she quickly handed the group's priestess a drink as well, rising up to her toes and whispering in her ear as she did. Whatever was said, the ethereal blonde flushed something fierce and immediately began staring down into her mug as if it held lava. Such a reaction had become an increasingly common sight during the company's travels together as not a one of the sheltered priestess's friends had managed to entirely resist the urge to tease her, though the severity of their ribbing varied drastically from girl to girl. Finally the last mug found its home in the hands of the shorter redhead as her dark-haired companion settled in to lean casually at her side.

"So, where are we headed?" the scantily clad newcomer asked cheerily, glancing back and forth between the two redheads whose argument had long predated her trip to fetch refills.

"West," the taller grumbled after a few long moments, her eyes never leaving the map.

"East," the shorter countered barely a second later, her glib tone unmistakably playful.

Such was how the last hour had passed, more or less.

"Riiiight..." the newcomer drawled, lifting one hand to dramatically pinch at the bridge of her nose.

"Ignore her," the warrior's scowl deepened once more as she lifted her face to glare across at her stubborn counterpart. "She just wants to argue."

"Not true," her rival cut back, though she couldn't entirely suppress a smirk at the accusation. "I simply prefer the route that will see us spend the most nights sleeping in a real bed."

"City girls," their archer snickered from off to one side, a rare smile twisting her lips as she looked up from the map. "All so very pampered. What's wrong with camping?" Not normally one to waste words joining in the frequent banter of her comrades, the elf-blooded girl was nonetheless quick to needle them over their unfamiliarity with the rigours of travel. It was an opportunity she got all too frequently as even those among her comrades who had left their home city before setting out on their current journey had only done so with the luxury of horses, carriages, and armed guards. They were, after all, rather new to the whole business of adventure, and for the most part no better prepared than a scholarly hermit who had mistakenly stumbled into a brothel after years of isolation.

Her companion, though, seemed all too ready to defend her position, holding up one hand and ticking off her many grudges finger by finger. "Bugs, snakes, rain, eating nuts and roots, standing watch..." she rattled through the list in a tone that suggested there could be nothing more obvious.

"aww," the huntress didn't bother waiting to hear the end of her comrade's roll of grievances with the concept of 'outdoors'. She knew from experience it stretched quite a length. "Would you be more at home if I caught you a few rats to sleep with?"

The redhead's equally short but boyish-looking companion let out a single harsh laugh at her side which the curvier young woman silenced with a swift glare. "How bout I find you a mangy hound to sleep with instead?" When she swung her head back towards the brunette her face was wearing the sort of scowl she usually reserved for their company's towering leader.

While some members of the company may well have been cowed into the silence by the redhead's ire, a certain rather meek priestess for example, the archer was made of sterner stuff. With a gasp of faux delight and both hands suddenly clutched over her heart, she instead cooed back a sugary reply. "Do you really mean it? I would love a puppy, thank you sooo much!"

Her fiery opponent looked on the verge of spitting sparks, a sight which you can be sure seldom bade well, but whatever she meant to say was cut off by the lady-knight slamming her freshly emptied mug down on the corner of their map. "Enough already," she groaned, a warning look in her eyes, "will you just finish your drinks so we can go?"

"Have we decided, then?" the blonde newcomer across the table asked in an irresistibly smoky voice.

"Oh, I give up," the tall warrior groaned, a phrase she had uttered at least as often in the short span she had known her new rival as in the entirety of her life prior to that point taken together. "We can go East if it gets me out of this pigsty before my head explodes."

"What?!?" the shorter redhead whirled on her, petty bickering forgotten in a flash. "I thought we were staying the night?" Beside her the tomboy raised one eyebrow as well, though unlike her friend she held her tongue.

The tall lady-knight just shook her head firmly, though, and fixed her counterpart with a determined look. "No, there's still another hour or two before sundown. And frankly, I don't fancy sleeping within a mile of this lot." She gave an absent jerk of her head in the general direction of the dozens of drunken workmen who had long since given up any pretense of civility in favour of openly leering at the six adventuresses. No matter how sheltered some of their number might have been, centuries of womanly instinct passed down from mother to daughter made sure each maiden knew well, if not in her mind then at least in her heart, the fate those men had in mind for them were they to let their guard down.

For a moment the shorter girl looked as if she wanted to argue the point, but glancing around at her comrades it quickly became clear she wouldn't have enough support to get her way. Several of the young women were nodding their agreement and shooting concerned glances towards particularly rowdy clusters of patrons. It was clear enough they would rather spend another night sleeping under the stars than worrying some hayseed with more balls than brains might burst into their chambers while they rested. "Ugh, fine," she eventually muttered, lifting her mug to down the last of her drink while the rest of her companions busied themselves packing away the map and gathering up their belongings.

Naturally, the three old regulars were utterly dismayed when the objects of their depraved fascination started readying themselves for departure, but there was little they could do except savour their final glimpses of the six young women. Of course, the trio were hardly alone in doing so. As the departing adventuresses made their way to the Sheep's sturdy oaken doors nearly every pair of eyes remaining in the tavern was fixated squarely on their shapely backsides. It was as if each patron knew they would never again lay eyes on such fetching maidens and was determined to burn the image of his favourite into an eternal memory. And remembered the six would be. For a great many years to come, the nighttime fantasies of nearly every farmhand and woodsman for miles around would be populated by one or another of the maidens he had glimpsed but once.

Had they realized the depth of the sway they held over their admirers, been aware of the depraved acts many of the men would give anything to preform on them, most of the six companions would have been sickened to their very core. And yet, by the time their sorry tale had drawn to a close, there was not to be one among their number who would not eagerly leap at the chance to exchange her sorry lot for the opportunity to return and spend the rest of her days fulfilling each and every one of those fantasies. For far worse were the fates which lay ahead of them...

To Be Continued.

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