<div class="floatright">(http://s3.amazonaws.com/cdn.roosterteeth.com/uploads/images/54063e01-6933-4e38-b195-d0fc28595a06/md/2181220-1448930942333-Warrior_Karsten_Face.jpg)</div><br/>Having walked three laps around the small village, fetched and strapped on what he needed of his gear from his room, and gotten some handle of the throbbing pulse of tension that had formed behind his temples, Cerias figured it was time to head back. It might not have been fully thirty minutes yet, but he would easily have had time to not only eat and wash off, but by now he’d have most of his armor on as well. Surely two girls, with no armor and little to prepare, would be well done by now. In fact he would bet they were just the kind of stuck up brats that would sit there and stare pointedly at him when he came, wondering what took him so bloody long.<br/><br/>That cheery thought had him steer his steps back towards the roughshod little stables while munching down the last of the smoked sausage he’d gotten at one of the stands. His sword now hung comfortably at his side, joined by the falcon-crested shield on his back, and some plate bracers and chin guards to join the thick leathers he already wore. There was nothing out here that would pose a threat to him anyway so there was little point to bother with full plate mail for what would be a day watching a pair of hopeless newbies flailing at rats.<br/><br/>Sliding open the doors to where the two of them had slept, he carefully looked at the floor, not wanting to rile them up all over again should they for some reason still not be dressed. At least they were silent, perhaps focused on, empty…it was empty…<br/><br/>That was when he heard the first screeches from further off towards the river. His head snapped up and his sword was in his hand before he had even thought of drawing it. How had they managed to get into trouble here? Despite his brain fighting, and failing, to understanding how they’d accomplished that feat, he bit back a curse and headed through the stables and towards the racket. It could not possibly be anything truly dangerous in this area, for any regular adventurer, he amended to himself and hurried his steps. Running down the slight incline leading to the river, he tore through a patch of thick shrubs and high grass, sword held ready as the screams, whimpers and shouts, reached towards him.<br/><br/>“Leave them alone they are….with me…”<br/><br/>He began his shout but the last words puttered out into nothing as he fought to process the sight before him. The two girls were tumbling, squirming and spastically kicking and slapping all around them, mired in a dark pool of writhing, swirling dark shapes that coiled and slithered, rather than swam, in the heavily crowded waters. Black shapes wound in slippery holds around the pale flesh of the girls, somehow managing to always cover what would have been a showing of nipples or mound.<br/><br/>What where they? Why? His jaw worked up and down a few times as the sight blew his mind empty of thoughts. For a many seconds his brain even refused to acknowledge the fact of the strange orgy before him, making him question the age of the sausage he’d just had and the state of his mental health.<br/><br/>Wildly different impulses all crashed together in the back of his mind like a family of ogres all fighting for the last mutton. Wonder at why the two where swimming in a damn spawning pool of black spur eels, and why they weren’t getting out if they didn’t like it, met a surge of desire at all the jostling mounds, wide and lush hips and round buttocks that came into view only to vanish again. The dirty clothes they’d worn had hid some truly mouthwatering curves.<br/><br/>But mostly he just felt a deeply rooted exasperation. Surely they wouldn’t squirm around in the cesspool of eels unless they wanted to right? Some kind of beauty treatment? Did they believe the eels would clean them off or….He could maybe grab them and drag them out but, they’d just scream bloody murder again…his mouth closed with a clack.<br/><br/>“Fuck it…”<br/><br/>The words came as a rumbling growl as he let go of his sword and strode right down into the shallows of the water, nearly rushing down over the rim of his boots. Leaning down he grasped hold of an ankle, wrist or a flowing lock of hair, anything that would give him purchase on each of them, and with a grunt dragged them bodily out of the squirming patch of slimy bodies, letting go of whatever he’d grasped hold of as soon as they were out of it. Then he left them there, walking a few steps back up the shore muttering under his breath.<br/><br/>There he turned and looked down at them, eels still squirming and writhing all over their dripping wet and naked forms.<br/><br/>“What in the name of the seven virgins were you doing? I said clean up…..eat….this is going to be a long day isn’t it….”<br/><br/>His voice held a mix of actual curiosity and impatience, flavored with a sprinkle of lustful rasp, as he sunk down on a nearby rock and just kept staring at them, still caught between mirth, annoyance and a frustrating want to watch as much of their lovely forms as he could. A pointed look of strained patience and silent judgment settled onto his features as he was doing his best to ignore the disturbing hardness growing in the tight confines of his leathers at the sight of the naked women, all but bound and assaulted by the slimy dark eels.<br/>