<span style="font-weight: bold"> Tzuru, Tesu, Domlan, Qulan, Travian </span><br/><br/>Indeed, it seemed as though Tzuru and his tauric tormentor were at a complete stalemate - Tesu seemed quite determined to stuff a living, squirming meal down her throat, and Tzuru seemed even more determined to not be the one on her menu.<br/><br/>With a growl of frustration, Tesu again swipes a forepaw at the Corruk, determined to weaken her meal before once again trying to cram him down her hungry gullet. Unfortunantly, much like before - the quick little creature was simply not there when her paw arrived, the agile corruk already rolling out of the way of the clumsy attack. It only added to the frustration of the far larger predator having such a tough time making a meal of the smaller corruk.<br/><br/>Tesu's frustration proved to be the perfect opening for Tzuru, giving him just the time he needed to scurry away from the angry taur and scoop up the dagger that had come loose during Domlan's struggle with Travian, and dropped to the floor. The blade was far larger than what the corruk was used to, and came with the added difficulty of seemingly being made for Domlan's hand - the hilt of the dagger was simply enormous when compared to the rest of the long, slender blade. Yet, it was a weapon, and something that could be used.<br/><br/>Now, to just find an opening...<br/><br/>Above Tzuru, Domlan, Qulan, and Travian struggle against each other, the tangled mass of bodies practically dancing on top of the corruk, but Tzuru's agility lends to him being able to avoid those footsteps which would no doubt alert Qulan and Domlan to his presence. Yet, from the Corruk's vantage point 'beneath' the action, it became clear pretty quickly - Travian could likely hold his own against ONE of the two who now grappled him, but he was simply outmatched against two in close-quarters combat.<br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Tesu attack roll - 1d20 (19) + 6 = 25. Hit!<br/>Damage - 1d4 (3) + 3 = 6. Tzuru takes 6 damage<br/>Tesu does NOT use 'improved grab'</div></div></div><br/>Just as Tzuru brings the dagger up to strike at Domlan's unprotected calves, Travian gives an especially violent jerk in the canine's arms, causing him to stagger about slightly. At the worst possible moment, Domlan's heel connects solidly with the corruk's chest, nearly knocking the dagger from his hand. Just as Tzuru begins to stumble backwards from the kick, the corruk feels another impact from behind him - Tesu!<br/><br/>"GRRrrrr! Don't you dare think you are getting away from me, you furry little snack!" The impact from another of Tesu's paw-swipes almost sends Tzuru stumbling beneath the mass of bodies struggling above him, and again he feels the horrible sensation of those small - but sharp - feline claws digging into his fur and flesh, drawing another deep red streak down the left size of the corruk's back. It way clear what she was trying to do - soften up her little meal before giving him a one-way trip down her hungry throat.<br/><br/><br/>The struggle between Domlan, Qulan, and Travian continues, though the numbers certainly do not favor the traitorous raccoon...<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Domlan attemps to feed Travian to Qulan - 1d20 (13) + 7  +2 (Qulan) = 22.<br/>Travian's counter-grapple - 1d20(14) + 4 = 18. Failed.</div></div></div><br/><br/>Domlan's arms further tighten around Travian, threatening to crush the very life out of the squirming raccoon. Chancing a quick glance around, the big canine growls under his breath - things had turned bad, VERY quickly...no doubt, thanks to this damn traitor. Despite how much he'd love to enjoy this raccoon's squirming body in his belly, it would slow him down just a little too much for comfort - and Qulan was not nearly the combatant he was.<br/><br/>It looked like this squirmer went to her - and she could be the one to answer for it when the master returned.<br/><br/>With one arm wrapped around Travian's waist, hefting him up off the ground, Domlan presses the other hand beneat the raccoon's chin and tilts his head back forcefully - giving him a bird's eye view of Qulan's pretty face, and the wide-open mouth right in the middle of it. The soft, pink interior of her tiny mouth practically dripped with eagerness, her tongue flexing against his throat as if waiting in anticipation of the meal to come.<br/><br/>'Shit'....this was not good. Travian's eyes glance around, looking for anything he might use to brace himself, keep him from being pulled into that open maw - but nothing. Domlan's hold was too stong, and the odds were against him. At least his mission had been a success - the prisoners were free, and fighting for their lives...effectively, too, it seemed. He only hoped he could fend these two off long enough for help to arrive...<br/><br/>As if on cue, Domlan drives Travian's head forwards...and right into Qulan's open mouth.<br/><br/>The lizardess seems all too happy to accept the gift, and without so much as a second's pause, begins to swallow eagerly, more or less letting Domlan feed her meal directly into her throat. The soft skin of her slender neck suddenly bulges with the faint outline of Travian's head,, followed by his shoulders - and no amount of squirming on Travian's part seemed to halt the slow but steady decent into the hungry lizardess' body. Adjusting his grip, Domlan slides his hands down Travian's legs to his calves and - with one final push - shoves the squirming raccoon up to his waist in the lizardess' mouth. As if his job were done, Domlan turns and surveys the scene - he had to step in and stop this madness, and FAST...they odds were slowly turning against the prison guards...<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Qulan's swallow attempt - 1d20(5) + 4 = 9.<br/>Travian's resist attempt - 1d20(2) + 4 = 6. Again, luck seems to be against Travian...</div></div></div><br/><br/>With her meal already started for her, Qulan's throat siezes up around Travian...and begins to rapidly pull the squirming, kicking raccoon deeper into her body, her lips creeping upwards along his thighs as the enormous bulge in her throat steadily decends further into her body...and into her slowly-swelling stomach.<br/><br/>Within a matter of seconds, the only thing left of Travian to the outside world was a pair of squirming, kicking feet. Qulan's tongue slowly curls around them, as if savoring the last little bits of flavor from her prey...and - tilting her head back - swallows loudly, Travian's feet dissappear into the lizardess' mouth...and down her throat, to fill her happily gurgling belly. With  a satisfied pat, Qulan gives her stomach a little stroke, seemingly quite happy to have such a filling meal - and one that would not even get her in trouble.<br/><br/>Travian's eyes widen in disbelief - he'd been swallowed!! CRAP! This was not boding well. Already, the lizardess's stomach was rippling over him, coating him in digestive acids that - whilst not incredibly potent - were already starting to make his skin tingle the slightest bit. It was a terrifying feeling...and one he did not want to experience for long. Taking a deep breath, and trying to ignore the rising scent of acid, Travian keeps his cool...and slowly strokes his fingertips along the interior of the Lizardess' stomach, nearly immediently finding what he'd been looking for - the tight ring of muscle that led to her stomach....<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Travian escape artist - 1d20 (13) + 10 = 23<br/>Qulan stomach escape DC - 19.<br/><br/>Travian returns to the throat</div></div></div><br/><br/>Wasting no time, the lithe raccoon works his fingertips back through that tight little ring of muscle...then the fingertips of his other hand...and - with a sudden lunge of his legs, pulls apart that ring of muscle with all his might...and drives his head, muzzle-first, right back up the lizardess' throat.<br/><br/>The sight was a bizzare one. A sudden, thick bulge appearing in Qulan's neck, and just as quickly, her mouth snapping back open, Travian's entire head squirming free. Keeping up the momentum, Travian jerks his arm forwards and out, fully freeing his shoulder, one arm, and his entire head from the digestive fate Qulan had planned for him "Oh...no you...don't...!!! I am not going to be...lizard...food...!!!" Of course, how long he would remain free was yet to be seen...<br/><br/><br/>Tzuru - 38/50<br/><br/>Part 4/5