The Exile's Path Ch. 02

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter in Tula's tale. I enjoyed writing this one and setting up some character development. Hopefully the characters are interesting, the sex is hot and the hints of a developing story keep you readers hooked. Let me know how I'm doing - kind feedback and ratings keep me writing and constructive criticism is helpful!

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Chapter 02 - The Rhythm of a New Life

The smithy that served Bal's Post's harbour was a small, open air affair. Set off to one side of a small, wooden house, the forge area was surrounded by a low stone wall, against which sat a few sturdy tables and the hearth and chimney. A shirtless dwarf, dressed in leather trousers and a scuffed and battered leather apron was shovelling coal from a small handcart into the hearth. The sides of the young woman's head were shaved. Running from her fringe to the back of her neck was a short, dirty blonde mohawk that that she wore in a tight braid. Her arms and shoulders were heavily muscled and her shirtless state displayed them and her tanned skin to good effect. Tula was impressed. The corners of the smith's blue eyes crinkled and her ruddy cheeks creased as she smiled cheerfully at the orc.

"G'day ma'am," she said, giving Tula a nod. "Name's Fiona. What can I do for you?"

"Greetings. I am Tula. I would like to purchase a dagger."

"That can be arranged," said Fiona, leaning her shovel against the cart and walking over to a table beside the forge. There were a few canvas wrapped bundles lying on the various tables and the dwarf unfurled one of them to reveal a selection of short blades. "I've mostly got longknives - the fishermen like those - but there's a couple of other options."

Tula approached the displayed implements and looked them over while Fiona moved on to the next counter and unwrapped the bundle seated upon it. Despite her apparent youth (it was generally difficult to guess the age of a dwarf, blessed with long lives as they were, similar to elvenkind) the blades she had displayed for Tula were of excellent craftsmanship. However, they were predominantly of the long, fine, razor sharp type favored by the local fishermen; there were only a few stouter dirks and daggers among the selection.

Once she had finished unfurling the rest of her wares, the smith returned to Tula's side. "So, what d'you think?"

"These are of good workmanship," said the orc, "but I am looking for something a bit more robust and it need not be so long." She picked up a dirk with a simple, spear-point blade, three quarters the length of her forearm with a leather wrapped handle, capped by an iron ball pommel.

"That's a decent piece right there, if I do say so myself," said Fiona. "Mandun style. Bit of a fighting blade, to be honest. Not what I usually sell."

"I like it."

"You've got a good eye, then. Point's tapered enough to get through a thick hide," said the dwarf, before giving the orc a shrewd look, "or leather and gambeson, if that's your fancy. Good shroud-steel blade and a full-length gutter - nice and light but proper strong. I'll let it go for four pence."

"Two pence and we have a deal."

The smith chuckled. "We both know I'm going to sell it for three."

"Agreed," said Tula, handing over the coins. "Do you have a sheath and a belt for it?"

"I'm no leather-worker, but I can whip one up for you," said Fiona. "What say we skip the haggling and agree that two coin will cover the work and materials?"

"That is a fair price," said Tula, "but I can not pay it right now. I should be able to pay by tomorrow, if that is acceptable."

"I dunno, lady," shrugged the dwarf. "No offence, but I've never seen you around town before. I don't want to spend my arvo cuttin' a belt and scabbard for you only to find you can't scrape up the coin."

"I will be able to pay," insisted Tula. "I am new here, it is true, but I have employment."

"Yeah? Where're you workin'?"

"I am a 'wench' at the inn," announced the orc proudly. Fiona struggled to hide the grin the orc's dignified pronouncement elicited.

"Huh, workin' for Dan, eh?"

"Yes," said Tula. "He hired me today."

"Well," said Fiona, scratching her chin and peering speculatively at the orc, "Alright then. I hope you're not goin' to scarper on me."

"So we have a deal?"

"We do," nodded the smith. "Leave the dagger with me, I'll need it for fitting. I'm by the inn most nights for a drink - I'll come by this evenin' and drop it off with the belt and sheath."

After exchanging thanks, Tula left the smithy. She spent the remainder of the morning walking the streets of the harbour, getting the lay of the land. Two main roads met at a T-junction outside the city's southern gates. One ran north along the shore of the Darksea, from the capital, Tennegen, in the south, around the city walls and up into the Shrouded Mountains. The other led westwards towards Sandrest and the Kingdom of Dirne.

Unwilling to pay the fee for a pass into the city, Tula turned away from the guards at the gate and returned to the waterfront. She took a seat on the end of one of the piers and ate her lunch before returning to the inn, pausing to have a drink from the well in the rear courtyard of the tavern.

"Civilized people tend to use a ladle or a cup," said a haughty, young, male voice. Tula looked up to see a youth leaning against the wall beside the kitchen entrance. With hair the same light brown colour as Danton's and a similar cast to his features, Tula guessed that the lad was the innkeeper's son.

The boy was handsome and tall, but lacked the muscles that were the gift of hard work. He was dressed in a well-tailored green tunic and white trousers that were tucked into tall brown boots. A strange instrument, similar in appearance to a flat drum but ringed with bells, leaned against the wall by his legs.

"I do not have one," said Tula, letting the water run from her cupped hands. She walked over to the youth.

"You must be the orc dad was talking about," said the boy, examining the orc imperiously. "I'm Giles. The bard."

"You sing?"

"I perform," stated Giles. "I'm rather well known in the city. Quite popular with the nobles."

"Okay," said Tula, shrugging. The youth's claim to fame meant little to her.

"A little old for a wench, aren't you?" said the bard, a snide undertone to his voice. Tula guessed he felt snubbed by her lack of deference. "Perhaps the curiosity of a blowjob between a pair of tusks will be enough of an attraction to make some coin." As Tula reached the door, the boy casually reached out and groped her breast. "These are nice enough, I suppose."

Looking calmly into the youth's eyes, Tula reached up and grasped the wrist of his offending hand. The boy tried to resist, but the orc effortlessly removed his hand from her tit. "You will not do that without invitation. Do you understand?"

"How dare you!" growled the bard. "You work for me!"

Tula squeezed her fist. Giles' face blanched as the orc casually bruised his wrist.

"I work for your father, boy," Tula quietly asserted before letting the young man's hand drop.

Cradling his arm, Giles scowled at the greenskin. "If you've injured my hand in any way, I'll make sure-"

The kitchen door opened to reveal Victoria, the innkeeper's wife. "Oh, hello Tula! Good to see you again. I see you've met Giles!"

"Yes," nodded the orc. "We were just getting acquainted."

"Well, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need Giles to fill a few buckets from the well."

"Mother!" objected the callow youth. "I was just about to perform! Get the orc to do it."

Victoria's brow furrowed. "Giles! Don't be so rude to our new friend!" she scolded. "You know that's not her job and I told you to do it, so you'd better hop to it!"

While her son slouched past her into the kitchen, the pretty blonde woman gave Tula an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, dear. I can't believe he would be so rude."

"It is not a problem," said Tula. "Is now a good time for me to commence work?"

"Oh yes," nodded Victoria with a warm smile. "The guards are changing shifts and the taproom is filling up. Dan could most certainly use the help - I'm sure there's one or two patrons in need of some attention."

The friendly woman led Tula into the kitchen, oblivious to her son's scowl towards the orc as she chattered on and he stomped past with an empty bucket in his arms. "I do miss the days when we had nan to help in the kitchen and I could spend some time working the tables - it could be such fun," she said with a small, fond smile. "Speaking of the kitchen; we have fresh bread and fish stew if the patrons are hungry, ha'pence a bowl. Ale is ha'pence as well and it's one coin for the wine."

The common room was quite lively. A substantial number of guards were seated at the bar and at various tables, wearing simple gambesons under the orange tabards of the city, along with a few armed figures who Tula took to be mercenaries and a smattering of civilians, most in the plain garb of peasants. All the patrons appeared to be human, but for two finely attired elves sitting at a table near the door.

One of the better dressed humans was seated on a bench close to the hearth, his trousers pulled down to his thighs. Jessemyn was on her knees between his legs, her head bobbing up and down as she fellated him. Another well dressed man sat beside the pair, idly watching the blonde girl work.

"Ah! Tula, good that you're here," said Danton, looking over at the orc as she entered the room. The big man was pouring a tankard of ale from a cask behind the bar. Tula walked over to him.

"How may I be of assistance?" asked the orc. She noticed many of the tavern's patrons were watching her with interest.

"Why don't you walk around and see if the fish are biting?" said the barkeep cheerfully.

Tula nodded. "Alright, I sha-"

"Uh, I'll take a blowjob," said one of the guards sitting at the bar, before Tula could finish her reply, "if you're offering..."

The enthusiastic guard grinned at the female soldier sitting next to him. "Never had an orc suck me off before!"

Tula shrugged and sauntered over to the excited man. "Very well," she said. "Disrobe."

Beaming eagerly, the soldier got to his feet and unbuckled his belt, handing it and the sword hanging from it to his female counterpart. The woman took the weapon and belt and placed it on the bar before leaning an elbow on the counter and resting her chin on her hand. She watched her fellow guard yank down his trousers and pull up his gambeson and tabard. His cock dangled, pulsing gently, between his legs.

"Straight to the point, this one," said the guard, grinning at the innkeeper. "Where'd you find her, Danto-ohhh!"

The young soldier's words trailed off into a sigh of pleasure as Tula calmly slid his shaft into her mouth. With practiced gusto, she got to work. Her head bobbed back and forth, the man's penis hardening quickly in her mouth until he was rigid and swollen with arousal. Craning her neck forward, the orc took hold of the man's hips and pulled him towards her, drawing his cock into her gullet. With his balls against her chin, the soldier gasped and gripped Tula's head as she swallowed his bloated member, her throat flexing and contracting around his cock like a silken vice.

The guard's hips bucked uncontrollably, but Tula kept sucking, unfazed by his spasms. She felt his fuck-meat pulse and throb in her throat. The watchman's eyes rolled back and he grunted like an animal, his hands locked to the sides of the orc's head. Lips forming a tight seal around the base of the cock stuffing her mouth, Tula let him shoot his seed directly into her stomach.

Once he was spent, the orc pulled the deflating shaft from her mouth and got to her feet, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. The young soldier stumbled backwards and sat down on his barstool, panting heavily. Beside him, his female comrade laughed heartily.

"Damn, Andurs, you lasted maybe a minute," she chortled.

"Shiiit," groaned the spent male. "That was crazy."

A couple of the inn's other patrons had been watching the display and they joined the female soldier in her mirth. Tula ignored them. "My payment, if you would."

"Uh, yeah, of course," mumbled the blushing watchman, reaching for the coinpurse on his belt.

Tula put the coins he gave her into the leather wrapper that had contained her lunch. As she tucked it into the waistband of her shorts, she felt a large hand give her ass a wanton squeeze and a large, scruffy mercenary leaned past her to slam three coins onto the counter.

"Let's see if I can't last a little longer than the whelp," said the merc. With dark brown skin, meaty, muscled arms and a barrel chest, the warrior was as big as an orc.

The heavily muscled soldier had left his equipment with his two comrades who were seated at a nearby table and gave Tula a hungry smile when she turned around to face him. She met his gaze, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Let us see, then," she agreed, pulling her makeshift purse out of her shorts and depositing it on the bar.

With a leering grin, the big man unlaced the fly of his striped trousers, letting them fall to his knees to reveal a hefty slab of cock-meat. Tula reached down and weighed the hardening phallus in her palm while the brawny soldier manhandled her titties through her shirt. The girthy shaft rivalled an orcish schlong for size and Tula's cunt moistened in anticipation. She gave the delicious organ a few tugs before releasing it to pull down her shorts.

Placing her discarded pants on the bar next to her purse, Tula turned around and presented her arse to the bulky mercenary. The big man grunted in approval at the sight of the orc's fine, large, round buttocks. Prying them apart, he flopped his stiffening member between her glorious buttcheeks and slid it up and down, using her asscrack to caress his shaft to full hardness.

A small crowd had gathered around the pair by now, eagerly watching Tula as she bent over the bar and readied herself to be mounted. The orc did not mind having an audience. She arched her back, sticking out her ass for the patron who had purchased time in her pussy. As she assumed the position, she saw the door to the kitchen open. Giles emerged, holding his tambourine, his eyes drawn to the cluster of customers surrounding the half-naked orc. Tula ignored the scowl he sent her way as he haughtily strode past her, making for a clear spot beside the hearth. She was uninterested in playing petty games with the lad. Besides, she had a delicious cock to fuck.

One hand still on her upraised ass, the big mercenary looked around at his audience, smiling like an arena champion, and guided his shaft into the hot, moist, orc cunt before him. Tula grunted in approval as she was penetrated. The man's bloated tool felt exquisite, filling her in a way she hadn't felt for some time time. Her quim embraced the meaty organ like it was welcoming an old friend home. There was a general murmur of approval from the gathered onlookers.

From beside the fire, Giles launched into a ribald ditty, clapping his instrument in time with the song's salacious words, but few of the patrons paid any heed to the young man's singing. Almost all eyes were drawn to the lewd scene beside the bar, where the bulky warrior-for-hire had begun fucking the orc wench's offered cunt. Her legs spread, her arms braced against the wooden counter, Tula pushed back against her customer's heavy thrusts, her lips twisted in a grimace of satisfaction as her cunny was exquisitely stretched by a suitably hefty breeding-pole. Each time the broad intruder pulled back, the orc clenched her twat, as if resisting the girthy organ's retreat. Each time the bloated tool pushed back into her, her fuck-hole grew wetter with arousal and released an obscene squelch.

Soon, the sounds of the pair's fevered rutting overpowered Giles' singing and the bard was forced to raise his voice to be heard over the meaty slaps of the mercenary's skin smacking against Tula's buttocks and the rambunctious cheering of the copulating couple's audience. It was a losing battle for the singer. When the beefy soldier peeled off his linen shirt and tossed it aside and turned Tula around to lift her up and seat her on the bar, the gathered crowd hooted in delight.

Tula stripped off her own top and wrapped her arms around the merc's bull-like neck. Her heaving titties mashed against the soldier's broad chest as she grabbed him. With her legs spread in invitation, the big man fed his juice-slick pole back into Tula's cunny and grabbed her ass, lifting her off the bar. In an impressive display of strength he held her aloft, one of her asscheeks in each of his calloused hands, and began fucking her with feral intensity. Tula wrapped her legs around his hips and clenched her arms around his neck, her eyes locked to his, her lips displaying a carnal snarl of insistent lust.

The sounds of their mating were even louder, thanks to their new position. The mercenary's pelvis clapped noisily against the orc's cunny, the loud, rhythmical *fwap fwap fwap* throwing Giles' latest melody into disarray. The young bard tried to start another song, but it was useless - the vulgar sounds of Tula and the soldier's breeding and the hoots and hollers of the assembled onlookers were a symphony that no lone voice and measly tambourine could compete with. Rolling his eyes in frustration, the bard slouched against the wall, ignored, and watched jealously as Tula's performance dominated the room.

For her part, Tula was oblivious to the brooding singer. All that mattered was the building pleasure in her stuffed pussy. The muscled mercenary's hearty rutting was pounding her towards climax and it was going to be huge. When the mounting pressure finally became too strong to resist, she growled ferociously and almost crushed her partner's neck in her embrace. Her skin shone with sweat. Her muscles corded with effort. Her cunt gushed with delight.

Fluid splattered the floor as Tula came. Her well-fucked cunny spasmed around the heavy tool stuffed inside it. Holding the orgasming orc tight against his dark brown skin, the merc grunted in bestial pleasure and joined her in climax. His bloated cock throbbed, his balls heaved and, even through the haze of bliss radiating from her spasming cunt, Tula felt the searing hot jets of his cum surging into her cock-hole.

The two sweaty figures stood almost motionless, but for the subtle flexing of their hips, as the brawny soldier inseminated the green skinned, amazonian wench. Their eyes remained locked together in a challenging stare while a heavy dose of jism was transferred along the merc's pulsing cum-hose into the greenskin's welcoming hole.

Cum transfer complete, the sated soldier finally pulled his cock out of Tula's cunt with a sloppy slurp. A thick dollop of his seed hung scandalously from her well-used pussy before it swung to cling wetly to the inside of her thigh.

"Hells!" sighed the big warrior, looking over at his comrades. "Haven't had a fuck like that since that place in Top Town!"

"Them orc ladies," nodded one of his only slightly less imposing compatriots. "They know how to scratch an itch."

Tula leaned back against the bar, jizz oozing slowly from her twat and down her thigh. She felt Danton's hand on her bare shoulder as he gave her a friendly squeeze. "Nicely done," said the beaming barkeep. "Vicky can get you a cloth to clean up back in the kitchen."

The rest of the afternoon was not so productive. Although many of the inn's patrons were more than happy to steal a quick squeeze of her ass or a grope of her tits as she brought drinks and food to the tables, Tula ended up with only two more customers. She ended up jerking off a fishmonger on a bench beside the hearth while he played with her titties and sucking a wagon driver to orgasm while he leaned against the bar, drinking an ale. Still, by the time the sun began to set, the orc was a few pence richer after Danton had taken his cut.