Nickolaus was a product of his upbringing, the son of the village treasurer.  It was his joy to accompany his father on his business trips to the markets of Brouge on behalf of the villagers.  He helped his father in any way he could, and was fascinated by his bartering skills.  This was inherited, as well as his father's love for the fairer sex.  Late at night, his father would leave the campsite and venture into the town.  One night, Nickolaus followed him, curious ... and discovered a commodity that he had never considered: women.  He was amazed to see men trade currency for flesh, and his father was a regular customer.  As long as there were men, there would be lust for sex ... guaranteeing a steady income.  It was a life-changing lesson ...<br/><br/>One that he remembered, only refined once he became a man.  His village grew over the years, as did the surrounding villages.  Why travel to Brouge for carnal pleasures?  Nickolaus opened his own brothel, much to the consternation of the elders.  But, over time, many of them came to be his regular clients.  And there was no want for willing ladies.  Theirs was a caste system, and women were considered property.  Rightly so.  But Nickolaus gave them an opportunity for some independence, and many took it.  He treated them badly ... and fucked anyone he wanted, whenever he wanted.  His business prospered ... after all, as long as there are men, there will be lust ...<br/><br/>With his business acumen, Nickolaus inherited his father's position after he died.  And this meant regular trips to Brouge, which were always profitable.  With his satchel flushed with his gambling profits, and his thick, seven-inch cock recovering from Lana's aggressive lips.  It was his most distinctive feature, his six-foot frame, while husky, hardly evidencing any manual work.  He happily moved down the main road to home.  But this changed as he exited the valley and began his ascent to the plains ... smoke.  Billowing smoke.  He spurred on his mount, riding hard ... his head racing and his heart pounding.  What met his eyes stunned him ...<br/><br/>Gone.  It was all gone.  His ancestral home burnt to the ground ... villagers laying where they were slain.  Those few who survived walking around as though dead.  Nickolaus quickly dismounted and ran to his business .... and his home.  All gone ... his ladies laying motionless on the ground.  Shock and disbelief ... who had done this?  Seeing an elder of the city sitting on the ground weeping, Nickolaus ran up to him.  "What happened?  Who did this?"  His response was incoherent, but Nickolaus learned enough.  One woman ... a giant, red-haired and merciless ... attacked without warning, without cause.  She demanded nothing ... only the destruction of ... everything.  Nickolaus prodded him for more information ... wanting to know where she went.  The old man could only point to the east ... through the Forest of Aai.<br/><br/>Nickolaus' light blue eyes burned with anger.  Framed by his long brown mane, his hardened countenance fierce and determined, he wasted no time.  He shifted through the ashes of what was his home and found what he sought: a short sword.  It had been ages since it was needed ... they had lived in peace with all.  Slipping it into his belt, he took the saddle bag off his horse.  The woods were too thick for him to ride.  His pursuit of vengeance would have to be on foot.  Throwing the bag over his shoulder, he plunged into the forest ... easily tracking the sandal prints left on the soft forest floor.  He did not go far when he heard someone calling from behind him.  Nickolaus frowned ... that fucking son of the ruling family was hailing him.  Nickolaus had only known the arrogant disdain of that bastard ... but crisis made strange bedfellows.  He guessed that they shared the same goal ... to make the fiery-haird Amazon bitch pay for her crimes ...