{EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: VandalSavage on 07-12-2008, 04:29:46</h2>
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				Title: <strong>{EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 04:29:46</strong>
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				<strong>"Slaves, welcome to Rome."</strong><br><br>The call rings out from the rim of the harbor.&nbsp; The quays there are white marble.&nbsp; Their white is soiled by traffic, groomed clean by the lick of wind and water, soiled again.&nbsp; The ships pour in, fat ships with brimming cargoes, their quantities countless - countless fistfuls shoved into the mouth of Roman earth, as it devours the world.<br><br>The white marble quays grasp the ocean.&nbsp; Her blue glass is restless in that grasp.&nbsp; It pulls in her tides and her treasures like a rapist.&nbsp; The docks are livid with activity.&nbsp; One cannot hear the tide over the raised voices.&nbsp; Only the tide of trade rules here, declaring its dominion over heaven and sea and earth by drowning them all out.<br><br>This is Ostia.<br><br>This is the maw of Rome.<br><br><strong>"Get moving, slaves."</strong><br><br>The call of the handlers leading the last shipment of human chattel onto the docks is drown out by the rattle of chains as the captive procession marches from below decks and down the plank.&nbsp; Less than a minute later, the same call from a different throat, commanding a different ship, sounds out.&nbsp; A minute after that, another ship will come.&nbsp; <br><br>By then, that first shipment has been assembled on the docks.&nbsp; A lone captive is separated, and four handlers lead her away from the others.&nbsp; Her fellow captives, slouching hawkers by their crates of wares, staring domestics in their drab gowns, chattering urchins; all watch her led away as she is marched the length of the docks to the far northern rim of the city.&nbsp; They might wonder where she is going.&nbsp; <br><br>Where she is going, is a mystery.<br><br>The path to this mystery is a narrow, wending trail cutting through the sawtoothed brush of an abandoned lot.&nbsp; Even with the sea close enough to blanket this place in its indigo lullaby, the land here grows dry.&nbsp; Lean grasses stand stiff, their colors fading, around little lagoons of wild flowers and weeds.&nbsp; Life buzzes here, but it is insect and elusive - all too anxious.&nbsp; <br><br>This sharp patch of wilderness seems brittle, as if something is just about to happen here.&nbsp; The path through it is like a crack in an old jug.&nbsp; The four handlers and their one slave move through it as fast as possible.<br><br>At the end of the path, a formation of limestone has its broad brow pressed to the sea.&nbsp; Furrows seam its regal, weathered surface with grave lines.&nbsp; It seems to be listening.&nbsp; <br><br>It seems the path should end here.&nbsp; The slavers mill about for a moment, trying to believe otherwise - trying to remember the instructions they were given on how to go further.&nbsp; <br><br>When at last they feel too foolish to stay in place, they take a step of faith into one of the darker creases of the stone.&nbsp; <br><br>There, defined such that the eye can scarce hold its edges for long, is a crooked chain of stair steps, leading up the rock.<br><br>The handlers make their way up it.&nbsp; <br><br>At the end of the invisible staircase, there is a chasm in the summit of the limestone formation.&nbsp; Across the chasm's narrow span, a wall has been laid.&nbsp; The stones of the wall sag with age, crumbling slowly toward collapse.&nbsp; It gives the curvature of the wall the appearance of a conspiratorial grin - a square doorway is open off-center in the wall, like a missing tooth.&nbsp; Above it, a sign painted onto driftwood with pearly shellac and garish, purple letters hangs like a winking eye.<br><br><strong>"The Cellar of Mysteries"</strong><br><br>This is the place.&nbsp; <br><br><hr><br>Inside the <strong>Cellar of Mysteries</strong>, there is a constant war being fought:&nbsp; Torchlight against a crouching, hungry dim.<br><br>Today, the torchlight is winning.&nbsp; <br><br>Sconces studding every open space of plaster wall fountain out a rosy, dancing light over the large, sunken common area and four alcoves of a main tavern room.&nbsp; A great tiara of them hangs above the bar, spraying fire from its old iron band, showering the room with light.&nbsp; Everything is warm like a good handshake is warm, and everything at least pretends to be illuminated.<br><br>The Cellar of Mysteries is expecting guests today.<br><br>Under the fuming ring of light above the bar, four shelves cram bottles together with small paintings on tablets.&nbsp; The paintings are all portraits of people; their colorful brushstrokes all glisten like fresh smiles.&nbsp; All the people in them look happy.<br><br>Their artist, Verona a woman with braided hair and a face like a misused grain sack, leans on the bar.&nbsp; She does not look happy.&nbsp; She looks like she has never had a happy day in her life.&nbsp; The many rings on her fingers click as she nervously twiddles them.<br><br>Verona does her best to look the woman at her bar in the eye.<br><br>But the woman at the bar is looking right back at her.&nbsp; If that woman was not a muscled, feline masterwork of sinew and softness, the look she gives Verona would make it hard enough.&nbsp; Even if she did not have a bow and golden arrows strapped to leopard skins that barely cover what would surely be a glorious, oiled nudity in dark skin.&nbsp; Even if she did not stand like a queen with a death warrant at her fingertips.<br><br>The look the woman gives Verona is the same look cats have in their eyes when a bird is dying in their mouths.<br><br>So Verona talks to the woman's waist.&nbsp; That waist is like teak wood, carved into smooth and deadly narrowness.&nbsp; Still, it is better than her look.<br><br>"You're overdue as it is." Verona croaks.<br><br>"Tell me when the next slave shipment is coming in."&nbsp; The woman says, voice like a gold razor.<br><br>"I'm not paid to answer your questions."&nbsp; Verona sneers.&nbsp; "I don't even know why we tolerate your presence."<br><br>"You are not paid enough to cover the doctor's bills you would incur by not answering."<br><br>Verona squints at her - or at her large teats at least, hugged by their leopard pelt.&nbsp; "Are you threatening me?"<br><br>"Do you feel threatened?"<br><br>Verona purses her lips.<br><br>"I hope you do, for your sake."<br><br>Verona's lips tremble.&nbsp; She turns her head and yells to the common room.&nbsp; "Marissa!"<br><br>Across the room, by an oven set into the wall, a large man looks around at the call.&nbsp; He is a great, bushy clump of a man - a poorly shaved sunbear mated with a bale of hay.&nbsp; He is stripped to the loincloth and boots, and his pink skin is running with sweat from the heat of the stove.&nbsp; He is not Marissa, however, and so he turns back to what he was doing.<br><br>He is Leo the Frank, bouncer of the Cellar of Mysteries, and so he was cooking.&nbsp; <br><br>In front of Leo, on a cutting board the size of a pool table, are vegetables of all kinds, assembled in a fragrant calamity with cured meats and phials of seasoning.&nbsp; Leo arranges the knife in his hand against a particularly plump and glorious green cucumber.&nbsp; He begins to chop, talking in German to pupils who are only there in his mind.<br><br><strong>"For such a mild taste, the cucumber still has a powerful presence in the dishes that include it."</strong>&nbsp; Leo chops with blinding speed and stellar accuracy.&nbsp; The hands that do the work bear the lumps, cracks and ruddiness of hands that have chopped just as efficiently into human adversaries.&nbsp; Leo is cutting the slices translucently fine.&nbsp; <strong>"Consider the carrot as a good parallel.&nbsp; So for this dish, where the cucumber's presence is only to soften, not to flavor, the overall taste, we need to slice them very, very, <em>very</em>, very, very lean."</strong><br><br>"Marissa!"&nbsp; Verona calls out again.<br><br>In one of the alcoves, a man ceases to pretend to be sleeping.&nbsp; He cracks one narrow eye open in his round bronze dish of a face, a frown making the rat-tail of his mustache bend down, but he does not drop his feet from where they are laying on a table full of accounting tablets, and he does not move the fur-clad lump of his body.&nbsp; He too is not Marissa, and he is the very opposite of Leo - quiet where Leo is loud, compact where Leo explodes into size, reserved and uninterested.&nbsp; <br><br>He has a hard face, hard alcoholic breath and remarkably soft hands.&nbsp; That makes him Lop Dan, accountant and scribe.<br><br>Lop Dan goes back to what he is always doing:&nbsp; Pretending to be asleep.<br><br>"Marissa!&nbsp; Jupiter skullfuck you for a toad, girl - get over here."<br><br>With a huff, a lean, fair girl in the alcove farthest from the bar slaps down the pieces of the Backgammon game she was playing by herself.&nbsp; She glowers up from beneath a tumult of dark hair, her expression as fixed and severe as the flock of dolls - little girls, centaurs, a fox in a toga, a bee woman - that form a staring assemblage in the booth around her.&nbsp; Then she lets the pieces fall from her hands as she hangs her head in her dirty palms.&nbsp; Her tight, youthful body heaves with a flurry of world-weary sighs below its dirty togas.<br><br>"From my distress," she grumbles in her native Greek. &nbsp;"Let buffeting winds bear it and all care away."<br><br>"Marissa!"&nbsp; Verona sounds as though she burned her hand.<br><br>The girl grabs her tangled hair and shakes her head and curses inwardly to all her dolls - even the bad one with the "X" shaped eyes she stuck in the corner for being bad - and she whines, because she is Marissa.<br><br>"Coming!" Marissa roars.<br><br>She stomps over to the bar.&nbsp; Marissa looks at the woman, then looks away shyly.&nbsp; Then she looks back, eyes bright with anticipation, as if expecting to find the woman looking.&nbsp; When she finds the woman is not, Marissa resumes her cloudy countenance.&nbsp; She spits a word at Verona through lips pushed into a prune.&nbsp; The word is what it usually is:<br><br>"What?"<br><br>Verona and Marissa fume at each other, glower grappling with glower, as the sublime, dark woman at the bar pays no heed.&nbsp; Neither side wins, so Verona replies tersely.<br><br>"When is the new shipment of slaves coming?"<br><br>Marissa looks blankly at her, still seething.<br><br>"Marissa," Verona says in a pedantic tone that begins to soar to a tea kettle's pitch.&nbsp; "You are the quartermaster here, and so it is your responsibility to know when the shipments arrive," and by now, she is nearly screaming, "that means millet, mustard, ouzo, parchment, and, yes, slaves, so when is the next damn shipment of slaves due to arrive?"<br><br>The four slave handlers walk into the door with their single cargo:<br><br>The shackled girl in their midst is visibly striking in the way good music is striking.&nbsp; Every aspect of her flows together, symphonic, to add to the sum of her beauty.&nbsp; And when looked upon - when the eye and flesh and mind of the looker laurels her with the fantasies, comparisons and reflections that immediately come to them upon seeing her - that beauty becomes more than its sum.<br><br>The girl - the woman, for she is eighteen and has the bearing of a hunting cat about her - is a walking moment of awe.<br><br>Black hair frames her face, falling to her collar.&nbsp; Her supple limbs pour from the chains that wrap all about them.&nbsp; Her contours bulge against the filthy scrap of a garment that runs from her neck to just below her sex.&nbsp; Her skin radiates strength and silken texture.&nbsp; Only the radiance of her blue eyes could compare favorably.<br><br>Before those blue eyes raise from the floor, the dusky woman at the bar speaks to Verona.<br><br>"I am on my way."<br><br>And with that, she slips up one of the two staircases that flank the bar - the one leading up, as opposed to the one leading deeper down in the Cellar.<br><br>Verona gapes for the two seconds it takes for her to slip soundlessly into lingering memory.&nbsp; She looks back to find Marissa staring indignantly, as if each moment spent standing in her presence was a drop of poison in her ear.<br><br>"Myrine has been going at me for two whole days about this slave shipment," she hisses to Marissa.&nbsp; "On and on about 'when are the boats from Brundisium due,' 'when are the SH slaves coming in,' 'when is the new slave shipment today,' and the moment she sees the girl, she's off like it was nothing."<br><br>Marissa rolls her eyes.&nbsp; "Alright, well, do you need me to answer any more obvious questions - like what the color of your dress is or whether our wine has alcohol in it - or can I go back to what I was doing?"<br><br>Verona waves her away and waves over the handlers.&nbsp; At that moment, from the stairs leading up, steps a man in an extremely clean toga with an exquisitely clean smile.&nbsp; His venerable features seem to be stamped with an authentic declaration of friendliness - of more than friendliness; of kindness, enthusiasm and confident concern.&nbsp; Out lunges his hand in salute as he walks up to stand beside Verona, glorious and sage.<br><br>Even the coarsest of the slavers feels a smile touch their lips to see him.&nbsp; They know instantly who this man is, for this man has devoted his life so that it could not be otherwise.&nbsp; They are nearly as honored to be in his presence as he seems to be in theirs.<br><br>This is Catulus.<br><br>"Gentlemen, good day."<br><br>"Good day, Consul." Says a slaver with a black eye and a Thracian accent to match his intricate, formidable armor.<br><br>"We appreciate the delivery on such short notice and such specific conditions."&nbsp; Catulus responds cordially, looking from one man to the other.&nbsp; "Given our high standards here, we decided we could have no other girl but this one."<br><br>Verona sneers and shoots a look at the stairs Myrine disappeared up.<br><br>"And what standards would those be, Consul?"&nbsp; The slaver asks, looking around at the dusky peeling of the plaster, the lonely tables and squirts of Greek graffiti that crawl on floor and walls.<br><br>"So high, I am lamentably not at liberty to discuss them." &nbsp;Catulus notes.&nbsp; He concludes his point with the presentation of a sack to the palm of the slaver.&nbsp; The sack is small and cheap, but its jingling, heavy contents are clearly not.<br><br>The slaver nods, handing the chains bound about the girl to Verona.<br><br>" 'Cellar of Mysteries,'" the slaver repeats as he produces the ownership papers for Catulus to take.&nbsp; "You, like, put on plays and dramas and such?&nbsp; Myths and pornography and the like?"<br><br>"Something like that." Catulus nods with a smile.&nbsp; "Thank you, gentleman, for this girl.&nbsp; I am sure she will make our long-term guests here very happy."<br><br>The slaver looks dubious, and shuffles his men backward.&nbsp; One dark-encrusted finger taps the swelling rim of his black eye.&nbsp; "She's more trouble than she's worth.&nbsp; Don't know what kind of master or lady would get a monster like that to be a kitten in bed."<br><br>"We serve a very unusual breed of boarder here." Verona notes dryly.&nbsp; Catulus smiles and waves.<br><br>The slavers leave the chained girl, and leave the Cellar of Mystery.&nbsp; <br><br>Quiet and the rumble of the many torches crush in.&nbsp; The sound of chopping rises and falls from the other side of the room.&nbsp; The sound of someone pretending to snore joins it.&nbsp; Backgammon pieces and dice click.<br><br>Catulus watches the door to the Cellar close on its own.&nbsp; His smile spreads as he looks about the room; Verona's lips fall just as fast.<br><br>"Alright, Heroes." &nbsp;Catulus calls to the alcoves and staircases of the Cellar - to the war of torchlight and dim.&nbsp; "You can come out now."
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				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 06:37:35</strong>
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				The room where she resided was dark.&nbsp; The walls draped rather stiflingly in swathes of velvet and silk, until one would think they had entered a cavern, rather than just another darkened bedroom.&nbsp; The colors were hard to see in the darkness, though with the lights on one would find themselves surrounded by several shades of crimson and a deep, rich brown.&nbsp; A long chaise lounge seems to dominate the far wall, a creature upon it, around it.&nbsp; Her slender arms curled beneath her head, her cheek resting against her forearm.&nbsp; Lips slightly parted in sleep.&nbsp; Her form slender, the skin a supple pink that seemed to draw the eye in the darkness of the room.&nbsp; <br><br>Long violet coils curled around the seeming bed, draped over the edge, coiled beneath it, the tip slowly shifting against the floor, twitching lightly.&nbsp; The sudden yell would jar her rather suddenly from a deep, and needed!, sleep.&nbsp; The girl jumping, panting softly as she was ripped from the mixture of pleasure and horror of her own dream, into the darkened reality of her room.&nbsp; Several degrees warmer than the rest of the place, nearly like she was curled within a sauna.<br><br>Her long, supple spine arching as she would try to wake herself from the dream to the reality, panting softly as little pieces of it would flit across her consciousness.&nbsp; <br><br><em> Golden eyes gleaming as her long nail would draw down the girl's smooth cheek, the raised crimson like along pale flesh.&nbsp; The human lass shivering, trying to pull away, but held in place by the collar.&nbsp; “Tsk, nary be moving, pet.. Lest ye like to join the others..”&nbsp; Surrounded by creatures and men.. and yet utterly alone..&nbsp; Statuary unmoving in their places.&nbsp; Some bent into odd positions, others on their knees, begging, one stone man even seemed to be kissing the ground, or perhaps, feet that had once been there..<br><br>“No!”&nbsp; The girl squealed, stilling under the vicious press of nail.&nbsp; “No please Mistress.. I will be good..”&nbsp; Her voice high, begging, her supple body shifting into that pleasing stance, knees parted, her hands behind her back, chest pressed forward rather beautifully.&nbsp; <br><br>“Good girl..”&nbsp; That vicious fanged smile as she would trail her fingers down that cheek, leaving an angry welt down the girls jaw, her neck, finally curling her nails against that taut nipple.&nbsp; <br><br>The girl squealed, her body writhing slightly, hips lifting, her head falling back as those nails would bite into tender flesh.&nbsp; “Ah Mistress Medusa!”&nbsp; Whimpered, cried out..</em><br><br>She wanted to cry.&nbsp; To scream.&nbsp; She was not her Sister.&nbsp; And yet such dreams had become startlingly familiar to her.&nbsp; Her body shaking as she tried to wash away the last of it with wakefulness.&nbsp; Someone had been calling.. Not for her, perhaps, but it was better to be out of the comforting darkness, somewhere where she could remind herself who she was.. and what she was doing here..<br><br>That slithering movement, slowly uncoiling herself from the chaise, those long coils, seeming as though they might be too bulky, unruly, and yet she moved with a shifting grace, seeming without effort, untangling herself slowly from the bed.&nbsp; Wetting her lips, slowly wiping the sleep from her eyes, she would stop, her own slitted gaze drawing over her half-seen form, the darkness hiding move than the pale glow of pink skin from her.&nbsp; With a sigh she would clench her fist, a little squeal of pain falling from her lips as she would, painfully, slowly, force her body through the transformation that would draw those long coils into something that might be more of an ease to her companions minds.. <br><br>Collapsing to the ground she would pant, her fingers digging into the floor, convulsing slightly, her forehead pressed to the cool marble.&nbsp; Where long violet scales had been were now two slender legs. Pink and undoubtedly nude.&nbsp; Her toes wiggling as she would try to regain her sense of self, feeling it shattered by the change.&nbsp; Monster.&nbsp; Other.&nbsp; Human.&nbsp; Closer, at least, her fingers softly drawing over the crimson snake's head, her favorite, usually curled against her neck.&nbsp; <br><br><div align="center">¤°*°¤</div><br>Dressed in Grecian style.&nbsp; The white cloth pooled over one shoulder, drawing over the rounded bust to gather just under her breasts, spilling straight down her slender form, parting under the movement of long legs.&nbsp; Slitted eyes drawing over the familiar form of the older man. Catulus.&nbsp; One of the few guiding forces in her life.&nbsp; A slow smile touching her lips, though her teeth never show.&nbsp; <br><br>“What is going on?”&nbsp; Her voice soft, coming up the staircase into the more social rooms of the building.&nbsp; She rarely bothered to light candles or torches, preferring the dim and dark places to those well lit areas.&nbsp; Her gaze wandering over those present.&nbsp; The older gentleman, the slave, the other members who had become somewhat familiar to the reclusive Gorgon.&nbsp; Hissing snakes proving to be an odd counterpoint to her movements, snapping at anything that got too near, from inert walls, to flesh.&nbsp; Though she was careful not to invade anyone's personal space.&nbsp; All she needed was someone whining because one of her companions bit them..<br><br>The slender form moving slowly into the room, near silent save for the loud complaints of her companions, writhing as they were around her head.&nbsp; "Taking in slaves, Catalus?&nbsp; I did nary think you were the sort to like them.. chained.."&nbsp; Her cheeks flushing even as she tried to keep her voice on an even keel.&nbsp; It was too close to the dream that had haunted her subconscious.&nbsp; Enough to leave her panicked, off-balance.&nbsp; Slipping up enough to grin, showing off those long, snake-like fangs around normal humanesque teeth.&nbsp; Though she meant the smile to ward off her nervousness, it slowly died as she caught the glances of others in the room, her cheeks heating, though her back would straighten, the girl casting glares at the slave as if it were her fault, idly stroking her crimson companion.
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				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 12:35:19</strong>
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				Galla opened her eyes. The harsh voice had awakened her. Brutally. Instantly. Without a chance to argue or beg. Not that she would do either. Her sleep had been despicable, it could not be considered a satisfying rest, due to the humidity, noise, cold and pain. And that was only on the outside. On the inside, Galla was overflowing with hatred, both oriented towards herself and the world around her. Self-loathing of the worst kind, the one that consumes you slowly, sorrow for friends and family lost, utter abhorrence for the traitors. The bastards. The cowards. The whores....No, Galla was better off awake than lost in her miserable nightmares.<br><br>She was as the others were, bound, almost nude, her chains dangling with her every movement. They felt heavy on her arms and legs, and their rust was perilously close to her already chafed skin. But Galla took the pain and the humiliation of being around other wretches. Until, suddenly, she was pulled away from them, and forced to follow four men. She did not complain, but she tensed and stood ready, expecting them to force themselves on her. For the long, excruciating trip, she had not been touched by any of the handlers. She had come close to it, but she had been rescued by fate and chance. Which she despised with all her heart. Perhaps she would have been better off dead. And yet, she was determined to fight off any attack. But no attack came. She snickered and did her best not to look at the head slaver and his very black eye. That should teach him...One day ago, he had tried to take advantage of her while she was sleeping in her cage. The cloth that covered her body was torn and thread-bare and did not do a very good job of concealing her. Therefore, as she slumped in a corner of her cage, one of her breasts had become free of its coverings and this man, who was just walking by, decided to abuse the sleeping girl. The second she felt his dirty fingers close around her full globe, she punched him, right in the eye. He had threatened her, but he had also been warned against touching her. <br><br>On and on they went, Galla walked at a quick pace, imposed by her handlers. She kept her head down, refusing to look up, so she did not quite take in the scenery, although her memory and imagination helped her make out a certain concealed way to what appeared to be an immense wall of rock. Up they went and the darkness was kind to her tired, bloodshot eyes, allowing her to escape some of the natural drowsiness and exhaustion. And then, they were in a pub of some sort...the light appeared unnatural, but not unpleasant and a bizarre scene unfolded. This time, she made sure her head was down, not because she considered that would be the right stance for a slave, but because she did not want to take in the drunkards and their women. She already felt disgusted, even before they started speaking. What misery, what disgusting characters! <br><br>The man who had just entered somehow demanded her attention. So Galla raised her blue eyes and pierced him with a glare. His smile was warm, genuine even. She would have gladly wiped it off with her sword. And since she did not have her sword, her bare hands would have to suffice. The look she gave him was feral and a scowl seemed to be tattooed on her young, beautiful face. She had completely missed the disappearing woman, not that she had any idea of her presence there. She looked at him and her breathing became heavy with anger when he referred to her as "a delivery". She narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin proudly, defiantly, while also taking in his features. He appeared to be quite wealthy, respectable and above the usual riff-raff that dwelled there. All the more deserving of a miserable death. She was left alone, still chained, still barely covered. And that's when he voiced the call, a most unusual call which left her confused, though not a drop of said confusion showed on her face.<br><br>She was seething by the time the strange woman entered the room. Galla directed her stare towards her and, although she had been using her self-control to keep from charging at the older man, she could not stop herself from gasping. Were those...snakes? She squinted her eyes and followed the exotic woman, whose skin was tinted and almost shiny. What are you? She thought, her mouth dropping slightly, her breaths flowing out from between full lips. Was she a goddess of some kind? No, Galla did not believe in gods. Only in warriors and their efforts. When she spoke, the girl felt even more confused. Her voice was normal, earthly, beautiful as she was beautiful, yet cold and somehow unfitting that scene. But her words harmed Galla and she returned her glare. "I...am...not...a...slave..." She whispered, panting, her body still tense, as if she were one of those unnatural snakes, preparing to strike.
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				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 18:08:16</strong>
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				Catulus brightens at Sthenae's presence.&nbsp; He smiles with additional warmth, the cloud of her absence having vanished to reveal the full brilliance of his appreciation for another person.&nbsp; He extends himself to her the best way he can, which is to brush her fingertips out of the range of the fuming snakes.<br><br>He bends his brow down in confusion at her words, though.&nbsp; Whisking a brisk summons to Leo, who was watching for it, he replies in a tone of concern.<br><br>"Whyever not, dear Sthenae?"&nbsp; Catulus makes a point of presenting her name like a treasure.&nbsp; He seems to actually think on her question a moment before continuing, while Leo crosses the room carrying a cutting board with dishes on it.<br><br>Verona, meanwhile, goes to clean an already sparkling part of the bar away from the Gorgon.&nbsp; <br><br>"She certainly won't stay in chains for long should she demonstrate that they're not necessary, which I am sure she will." Catulus continues.&nbsp; "I hope you don't think I mistreat those that I own.&nbsp; But I do own many - several hundred, in fact - as is normal for a man of my station."<br><br>Leo eases to the side of Galla.&nbsp; His burly form extends its usual animal reek to seize on Galla and Sthenae's nostrils and give them a hearty, salty shake in greeting.&nbsp; He drops a modest smile to Galla, then blushes a bit as he looks down to the bar.&nbsp; There he sets the board.&nbsp; Upon it is a dish with six pieces of flatbread so fresh that it is still steaming, with four smaller dishes containing sauces - a mint and cucumber yogurt, an olive tapanade, eggplant spread with spices and melted goat butter.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>"Enjoy."</strong> Leo mutters, speaking to Galla, then glancing up at Sthenae to include her in the wish as well.<br><br>As he scoots away, Catulus talks on. &nbsp;"Most every person in the free world owns at least one slave these days, Sthenae.&nbsp; There are errant cobblers who own three or four.&nbsp; But the relationship is like any other in that good behavior is expected of both sides.&nbsp; I frown on anyone who abuses their slaves by harming them or making tasks more difficult than they should be, just as I would condemn a slave for disobeying their duties.&nbsp; We all have our responsibilities and stations in life, and our choice is to follow them with passion and honor, or to fail them and ourselves in the process."<br><br>With that, he turns his full attention to Galla.&nbsp; "You are most definitely a slave, though, Galla.&nbsp; You must accept that you lost total command over your life in battle, just as a warrior who lost her leg or eye must accept the loss.&nbsp; Such a loss does not diminish the essence of who they are, but it demands that they adapt to the new responsibilities and conditions."<br><br>Breaking bread for both women, Catulus looks from one to the other.&nbsp; After a moment of his customary consideration, he announces, "Galla is intended to serve only the Heroes themselves, at their pleasure.&nbsp; Since you have an interest in her acclimation here, Sthenae, I would like you to take responsibility for her adjusting to her new home and station."<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 20:19:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Verona distances herself.&nbsp; Sthenae would give the woman a tight smile, noticing her behavior, though she was used to such things.&nbsp; At least the woman was merely retreating, not coming after her with a dagger..&nbsp; Of course, she is less used to the way that Catulus does not.&nbsp; The snakes writhing viciously around her head, making lunging snaps at him, though none came close to his person.&nbsp; His fingers brushing against her own, that moment of brief contact, bringing a slight blush to the reclusive Monster's cheeks.<br><br>Her companions growing more agitated, writhing around her head, their vicious little eyes watching everything and everyone.&nbsp; Veritably seething.&nbsp; “Oh, I have nary a doubt that you have.. servants..”&nbsp; Of course, they were still slaves, and yet there was that divide in her mind between those meant to simply keep house and run errands.. “But this..”&nbsp; She did not move, not wishing to make people uncomfortable, nor to have Verona have to redistribute herself to the farthest corner.&nbsp; “Such a fine specimen..”&nbsp; Her smile widening, viciously, mimicking the expression of her pets.&nbsp; Slitted golden eyes drawing over the girl's chained form, raking her, intentionally.&nbsp; Letting her feel every moment of that glance.&nbsp; The way her eyes seemed to peer through what little clothing she had been allowed.&nbsp; “She is obviously not meant to.. clean dishes..”<br><br>The girl's outburst only deepened the Gorgon's pleasure.&nbsp; Finally taking a step forward, towards the girl, and then another.&nbsp; “Not.. You say?&nbsp; Obviously there must be some mistake.. Perhaps these chains were meant for some other little slut?”&nbsp; <br><br>Letting her attention wander back to Catulus as he would continue speaking, expounding upon the value of owning slaves.&nbsp; “Oh.. I do nary know, Catulus, Sir.&nbsp; Some little sluts do enjoy.. being harmed..”&nbsp; The thought was singularly disturbing.&nbsp; In both the rush of arousal and disgust it brought to her, her cheeks darkening slightly as she would dip her head, her nose wrinkling slightly as Leo would draw closer.&nbsp; Lips parting as she would try to breathe through her mouth.&nbsp; Shooting Galla a smirk as she would be told her place, her fingers playing lightly with the little gold chain that encircled her ribs, drawing that fabric inwards.&nbsp; <br><br>“What?”&nbsp; Slitted eyes widening as she would let them fly towards Catulus.&nbsp; “You are giving me your human chattel.. and wanting me to.. to.. take care of her!?”&nbsp; It was ludicrous.. He could not seriously expect her to care for&nbsp; the creature..&nbsp; Especially with the way Galla was looking at her.&nbsp; As if she were the root of all the girl's ills.. As if at the first chance she might strike out at her.&nbsp; “I am sure one of the others wouldn't mind.. making use.. of her..”&nbsp; That wry smile, intentionally poking at the girl verbally, hoping for some sort of reaction.&nbsp; “She doesn't look terribly well trained.. But I suppose they could make do..”&nbsp; A soft sigh, turning slightly, waving towards the girl dismissively.&nbsp; "If.. that is all you have.. anyway.."&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 20:45:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla listened and her anger only grew, reaching dangerous heights. Her eyes were ablaze, wild, and her body was so tense, she was almost in pain. She only growled when the man insisted upon her new slave status, but when the woman, the <em>creature</em> provoked her, she spat out: "Bitch. I will have nothing to do with you." She took a step forward, adopting an even more aggressive stance. Suddenly, one of the snakes that created the woman's hair snapped at her, coming perilously close to her lips. It did not reach her, however, but it made Galla scream softly, her cheeks becoming violently red. <br><br>She stepped back again and watched them both, fire blazing within her. "I do not want your food. I have no home here, no station." She looked at the man, and narrowed her eyes. "You know nothing of warriors. For all I know, you are nothing but a disgusting, lecherous old man, who drinks his life away here, while the political world in which he has gained a status goes on. You do not fight wars. You do not know wars. I do not know these <em>Heroes</em> you speak of, and I have no interest in knowing them. Not if they resemble this-" She motioned towards the woman, "this monster! I shall not beg for my freedom. But I pray you kill me. I am a warrior, you fool, and I shall die one. I refuse to <em>serve</em> in any way."<br><br>Galla spat on the ground in front of them and started struggling with her chains. She could not undo them, and besides, where would she go?&nbsp; But she tried and tried, tearing her skin in the process, wincing as she drew blood in some parts. All the movement caused her clothing to move and slide off her shoulder and down her back, exposing her left breast. The other one was barely maintaining the cloth. She yelped and turned around, shamed, blushing furiously. She heard the snakes hissing at her back, the skin on her neck becoming covered with goosebumps, the soft hairs there standing on end. All her senses were crazed. She could hear the snakes, the light there was becoming nauseating and her eyes strained sometimes, her skin felt cold and the exposure made her tremble and gasp with shame and lack of comfort, but worst of all was the fact that she could feel the smells...the smells of food. Oh, and it must taste wonderfully! NO! She would not succumb to such bribery. She would not succumb to the smooth-tongues man and she would definitely not succumb to the woman with snakes on her head, the woman who resembled a feminine, sensual snake, rather than a human. And she would rather die than become used by the so-called <em>Heroes.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 21:09:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Catulus is opening his mouth to reply to Sthenae when Galla's fury pours forth.&nbsp; He watches with equanimity, but concern bends his features deeper and deeper.&nbsp; Creases write long sentences of sympathy on a visage of confident resolve; his mouth bows down with the weight of coming words.&nbsp; He stares at Galla like at a battlefield - gaze both intense, invested, and yet aloof to the roil of mortal emotion and suffering.&nbsp; It is the face of a coin: Of an absolute.<br><br>Everybody else in the tavern room finds an alcove to watch from.&nbsp; Catulus stands firm as ever, neither tensing nor quaking with feeling.<br><br>When he does open his mouth to speak, it is in a deeper tone - firm and intimate; a tone that grabs the listener by the neck.&nbsp; It is to the credit of his oratory and the disregard of his age that he can put that tone around the whole room.<br><br>"Galla, you are a slave, and fighting that is as foolish as a free person fighting the burden of the choices they have to make." Catulus looks directly at Galla as though she were a soldier in a panic.&nbsp; "If you would not eat what you're given, you would starve.&nbsp; As it is, you have no choice.&nbsp; That burden and liberty was taken from you when you lost in combat.<br><br>"I know these things because I do know wars - I have had to be responsible for the lives of thousands of men.&nbsp; I have cared for their wounds, for the injuries of their souls, the hard distances they had to travel from their families, the hopelessness, the enduring pain."&nbsp; <br><br>He points at her with three fingers of one hand, right at her eyes.&nbsp; "I am talking about the victors and the defeated alike.&nbsp; I have been on both sides of that conflict, and have cared for those on both sides - proud men, proud like you.&nbsp; I know of what I speak, because what you have endured a few years of, I have seen decades of.&nbsp; But you are fortunate, in that you actually are in the presence of heroes."<br><br>His other hand waves to Sthenae, while the first beckons toward himself.&nbsp; "Sthenae and the others here have devoted themselves to sacrificing their lives in aid of others - <em>any</em> others, regardless of tribe or nation or side of the war.&nbsp; Can you even understand that?&nbsp; They would die for the sake of protecting anyone."<br><br>At last, his voice lowers.&nbsp; It is still a drone, but no longer stentorian.&nbsp; It is an entreaty.&nbsp; "If you can think of serving anyone other than yourself, then be honored to serve them.&nbsp; They are bound, slaves to a destiny that demands they serve the whole world as protectors.&nbsp; You should serve them with honor, and you will learn to.&nbsp; You should, if only for the reason that you and you alone can."<br><br>A tone of sadness seeps in.&nbsp; "At the very least - and I neither think this of you or wish it on you - if you cannot be so marginally selfless as to think of others, then you will serve your own interests best by doing what as you are told rather than having it forced on you.&nbsp; You are still fighting a war that you lost.&nbsp; You lost.&nbsp; Now the war ahead of you is to obey your new orders with grace and dignity, not like a girl so afraid of the enemy's shadow that she throws a tantrum."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 21:34:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla listened to the man named Catulus and she was trembling with rage. But also with something else. Confusion. Frustration. Almost guilt. Something strange and exotic that Galla had never encountered before. Had she misjudged this man? Had she spoken too soon? No, no, her words had a reason. She was not an object, she was not an item that could be sold and used. But his voice...his words...they had a certain power over her, and she could guess, over anyone, whether in a theatre or in that very cellar. She cringed as he explained the horrors he had witnessed, the pains he had helped ease, if indeed he had done so. But even though he had much more experience in the tortures of war, Galla had learned that there is no true experience, no relevant learning. There was only blood. Blood shed for a cause. Blood shed for nothing. And she would not be the whore for those who "fought" another worthless war. She did not believe in the freedom of innocents, in the justice for the wretched. Not anymore. <br><br>He kept talking about what an honour it was for her to be in the presence of heroes. Again, heroes. What exactly did these people do? Who were they and what did they represent? And why should she be chosen to serve them? "<em>You and you alone can...</em>" What did that mean? Galla, although filled with pride, an ego that could surpass even the one of the most arrogant politician, did not consider herself essential in the flow of things. She had been a pawn, a pawn who had learned much, but a pawn that was now tired. A girl who could barely be considered a woman, a child who was already sick of life. And yet, she was filled on the brim with fire and energy. Would she give all that up and simply fall into oblivion? Would she collapse in front of them? She shuddered at the thought, but, somehow, she realized there was no choice. Either she chose death by starvation or abuse, or she chose to submit. It did not take long for her to reply. An ironic, sadistic smile was on her face when she turned around to face Catulus.<br><br>"Bravo, old man, war-healer, carer of wounds and souls. Bravo. You surely have an educated past, one that surpasses me, and your oratoric talents shame mine. But you are also a hypocrite, Catulus." She almost spat out his name. "You want me to believe that I alone have been chosen to serve your men, who are indeed just and honourable, who put themselves in front of danger in the name of the common fool, and who are so cursed with this torturous fate, that they need someone like me to relieve themselves." She laughed then, actually laughed, and it was sardonic and ill-intentioned. "But I have to say, you definitely seem to understand certain things about me. For I am selfish and I serve no one but myself. And I could not care less about the needs of a handful of wretches. Being their slave would serve my best interests? So you say. But I have chosen death, and be it by starvation of the brutality you say you do not show your slaves, I do not care. Your decades are nothing, old man. They are worthless to me and I hold my own suffering above it. Now, show me to my prison, or allow me to rest here. Either way, you will not receive my grace. Or my dignity. And a tantrum..." She grinned, and her look was feral again. "Free my hands and I shall show you tantrum..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 21:50:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She does not answer right away.&nbsp; Her longest companion, the crimson python that normally curled at her neck, would burst forward, looking to snap at the girl's face, only to fall short of reaching her.&nbsp; Slender fingers caressing over the ruby scales, drawing him back.&nbsp; “There there love..”&nbsp; Softly caressing him against her shoulder, the rest of her companions snapping towards the girl, though uselessly.&nbsp; “Mm, bitch, am I?”&nbsp; Perhaps she was.. She was intentionally provoking the girl, was she not?<br><br>The slender girl would merely watch as Catulus would begin to orate, her smile rather fond, amused.&nbsp; She did think that he liked to hear himself speak, though he rarely seemed to say much of any importance.&nbsp; Yet the girl had not eyes for her.&nbsp; Her glare directed at Catulus instead.&nbsp; And the gorgon would lean back, merely listening for the moment.&nbsp; As the older man began to wind down, the girl would respond, saucy, spiteful.&nbsp; It was rather delicious, in a strange sort of way.&nbsp; The Gorgon might have even liked her, if she was not wary of her own impulses in such things.&nbsp; When the girl would offer her challenge, the gorgon would draw forward in a serpentine movement, her smile widening.<br><br>&nbsp;“He is right you know.. You should be so lucky as to be allowed to.. serve.. me.. us.. Any who ask.”&nbsp; Her voice becoming low and throaty towards the end, her fingers still stroking along that crimson snake.&nbsp; Slitted eyes drawing over Galla again.&nbsp; “You should be.. Thankful.. you should kiss my slippers and beg to be allowed to please again.. and again..&nbsp; It would be your.. honor..”&nbsp; Oh her voice seemed pleasant enough, sweet and husky to the ear.&nbsp; And yet that smile was vicious, showing those inhuman fangs.&nbsp; “You need not attack dear Catulus.. he did not defeat you.. Nae, you did that on your own.. Allowed yourself to be put into chains.. Though I am sure there were a hundred points along the way where you could have.. Committed honorable suicide..”<br><br>That mocking smile as she would draw closer to the girl, lowering her head so she could look into those angry, spiteful eyes.&nbsp; “Once a proud warrior.. Now a chained slut..”&nbsp; Standing up she would turn from the girl as if she meant nothing.&nbsp; Less than nothing.&nbsp; “Perhaps you should leave her in her bindings for a few days.. Could let one of the boys.. Force-feed her.. Something.. nutritious..&nbsp; Perhaps Leo..”&nbsp; Waving towards the rather unbathed servant before moving back to the plate, grasping one of the hard ends of the loaf and ripping off a little piece of it, lightly nibbling on it as she would smirk at Galla.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 22:21:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Catulus listens soberly as first Galla, then Sthenae, converse.&nbsp; Neither elicits humor from him.&nbsp; Outrage or joy seem out of the question.&nbsp; He would seem a statue, but for the profound investment his eyes shine on Galla.&nbsp; Their sadness and redoubtable hope leave no doubt of his humanity.<br><br>When Sthenae talks of 'honor,' he nods.&nbsp; Otherwise, he simply looks at Galla in patient expectation.<br><br>Mention of Leo breaks the tension of the room, as Marissa scoffs a laugh.&nbsp; Leo does not turn from arranging his cooking station; his broad, hairy back blushes for him.<br><br>Catulus speaks up then. &nbsp;"You were chosen, Galla, on very good authority.&nbsp; She said your spirit was unquenchable and your heart was dedicated to wanting to strive for a greater purpose."<br><br>Lowering his tone to a grave scrape, he adds, "And yes, she said you would be injured in spirit, and acting out of desperation rather than out of conviction.&nbsp; But I will not allow you to lie to yourself in my presence.&nbsp; You know as well as I do that you neither choose death nor do you only live for yourself.&nbsp; You say that because what you lived for, you lost.&nbsp; <br><br>"I believe," he sets his jaw hard.&nbsp; "That you will find something to live for here that you have been searching for all your life.&nbsp; For now, though, your pride demands you be dragged toward it."<br><br>Catulus' flinty eyes flash to Sthenae.&nbsp; "Sthenae, do be a dear and persuade her to be calmer.&nbsp; Then you can see to her feeding and ... whatever other measures you think would help her come around."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>07-12-2008, 23:13:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman with snakes as a hair piece tormented her now. She leaned close to her and the snakes hissed wildly, mere inches away from her face. Some were venturing forth, and, although they did not bite, she could feel their split tongues tasting at her skin, as if drinking her sweat. She glared into the woman's eyes and took in her insults, her rage reaching the end of her limits. Her voice, her perfidious, infectious voice, so sweet and feminine, so vile and horrid. The snakes, slithering, writhing, stretching towards her, touching her almost, a certain allure, like an animalistic aura, covering her, making her tremble, making her naked breast become somehow heavier, her nipple erect from fear...<br><br>Catulus started talking, and this time, it was one plain, simple word that caught Galla's undivided attention. SHE. Galla turned to face him, as if she were a dog whose ears turned every time someone else spoke. She certainly felt like a bitch on display. She narrowed her eyes as she heard of this "she", apparently a woman, who had apparently suggested she be brought in as a slave. At that moment, Galla did not understand, and the understanding of this complex fact would evade her for quite some time. But she immediately harboured great anger and hatred for this woman, yet another traitor who dared establish her role in life. Even though her life had taken a turn for the worse. She dismissed the idea immediately, but when Catulus told Sthenae to apprehend her, Galla lost her barely visible control.<br><br><br>The cursed monster, after insulting her, calling her a slut, nothing more than a miserable instrument for the pleasure of men - and women -, tempted her again with the fresh food. It was all that she could take. Galla charged at her, closing the space between them instantly. Yes, she was chained, but she could obviously walk and she fought against her restraints, her dirty feet not faltering on the floor. She was beside Sthenae and she wanted to hit her with her bound arms, the weights on them sufficient to knock the woman down. "You are the slut, monster!" She bellowed and raised her arms against her, ignoring the wild, uncontrollable hissing of the snakes. She wanted revenge, a minimal amount of solace, and she wanted it then and there. And she thought that perhaps, if she struck down the woman, she would be punished. She did not care for the orator's "mercy", for his honourable intentions, for his desire to help her and direct her to a higher purpose. It had been her honour that which she had defended all those years, and she would lose it if she did not fight back. Bitterly. To the end. Her arms, burdened by the chains did not come down as fast as she had intended, but they were in the snakes' range of attack. Fury blinded Galla, as it always had, from the very beginning of her existence.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 03:54:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong><em>Sibyl</em></strong><br><br>With steps delicate, sandals barely making sound as they traverse the stone floor Sibyl enters, hand trailing lightly along the stonework wall, a flower's petal caressing the breeze.&nbsp; <br><br>Dressed in fine white linens trailing from golden clasps along an elegant turn of neck and shoulder gently pooling about her feet, the gold of her bracelets, torque and earrings catch the light sending soft sparkles about her.&nbsp; Raven hair falling in unbound waves well past the gentle curve of her hips.&nbsp; Her gaze turning slowly, light blue, near white eyes seem to seek out the sounds within the chamber and voices she has heard as she made her way with a gentle sway through the staired corridor.<br><br>Jasmine perfumed oil giving her olive skin a delicate sheen on bare arms, she stops.&nbsp; Testing the air.&nbsp; Scenting those in the room before she continues.&nbsp; With a slow&nbsp; blink of thick kohl fringed lashes, Sibyl finalizes her assessment of those present, a curious tilt to her head concerning the new being, a slight quirking of a corner of full lips as smile to those within known to her.<br><br>With a quiet elegance Sibyl finally relinquishes her stroke of the stonework taking measured concentrated steps toward the source coming to rest some steps away, not entirely sure of the creature in rattling metal.<br><br>"Catulus?&nbsp; A good day to you and to you Sthenae.&nbsp; There is someone new?"<br><br>Standing with utmost stillness Sibyl gathers to her the sounds, the scents of the room and the occupants, the emotions and fears.&nbsp; <br><br>"She has traveled by ship?&nbsp; I scent the sea upon her.&nbsp; Only just arrived?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 04:41:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He had been reading in what passed for a bookroom here, which was a usual enough pastime for him. Some published letters of Cato the Younger, who he liked in the sense of liking the idea of Cato perhaps, more than the man. He had a consistency to him, and in a very inconsistent Rome, that was worth admiring. Then again, his humourlessness made even Argentum seem boisterous by comparison, so it was an admiring best done from afar. Cato's usual place with the optimates tended to spare Argentum the tedium that regular meetings with the man would have become anyway. Still, the letters were interesting enough to leaf through with silver fingers, and ponder if their shining words could exist anywhere outside of their pages.<br><br>And then too keen ears picked up a too familliar din, and intellectual contemplation was sundered in the thundering booms of yells and the weight imminent violence burdened his awareness with.<br><br>A burst of light coursed through the halls in the same moment of his wince, wings spread fully to carry him quickly unto the tavern proper, rearing up between Sthenae and Galla, waiting with a hint of resignation for fists or serpents or both to impact upon his silver hide, radiance spilling out through the room as though he was a star fallen out from the heavens beyond.<br><br>"I have little wish to know how this began, in the who or how or why. I only ask for it to end. Please." <br><br>The calm in his voice somehow an imposition itself on any extremes of emotion, not so much soothing them as crushing them underfoot.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 05:07:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Catulus watches the violent events transpire, only raising a hand to Verona to stay her from ducking under the bar.&nbsp; It doesn't work.<br><br>The rest of the tavern watches, transfixed, as the wild woman rages and the Heroes assemble around her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 09:42:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It all happened at once. A flash of bright silver light, and it was over. Galla wondered if it were her death. But it was not. Just a hard surface coming between her fists and the violent snakes. And she smashed into it and, because it didn't even budge, she fell over backwards, pulled by the chains' collapsing weight. She gasped and looked at him from the floor, looked at the man - was it even a man -, who seemed to be clad in silver, the beautiful shape of his body gleaming in the light. He was strong, and he was handsome, but there was something so extremely alien in him. Galla raked her mind quickly. Because although he appeared to be foreign and unnatural, a certain aspect of him was oh, so familiar. Familiar like an old dream, like a memory. From long, long ago. <br><br>A sudden flash-back struck Galla and she saw herself, as a child, an innocent, peaceful child in her old home. Listening to stories of a so-called man of silver, a hero in Rome, a mentor of the Valerii. But she was one of the Valerii and he had never even looked at her, she had never been able to express her interest for his origin, for his battles, for the war he wages even at home. She had never met him, but he had impressed her and had inspired her. <br><br>Galla snapped out of it and looked at him with anger - it's true, it was reduced by a certain awe. "You....it can't be...." She started crawling back, away from him, the movement awkward due to the loathed chains. "How can this be....no, it isn't real!" She now noticed the woman who had joined them. She was beautiful too, and she radiated a certain calm and harmony, unlike the things that flowed from Sthenae. She wondered why such a woman would spend her time here. She was blind, or so it seemed. Yet, she walked with an ease and an elegance the likes of which Galla had never witnessed. And she asked about her origin, mentioning the <em>scent of sea</em>...yes, perhaps she did have an ungodly odour upon her.<br><br>But she snapped back when she remembered the large figure looming over her, talking to her in such a tone...calm, uninvolved, superior, as if chiding a child, but lacking in violence or menace. It was something Galla was not used to. She did not know how to respond. She fought violence with violence, and she was violent when the other was assuming or patronizing. But when there was no possible commentary, no understandable reaction...she was completely and utterly lost.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 13:08:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He looked first to Sthenae.<br><br>"She is a slave, and I think you and I are both familliar enough with being antagonized by life itself just for existing to have some understanding for those in a similar position."<br><br>He paused, reflectively.<br><br>"I ask you, personally, that you have some understanding for those in a similar position." It even had the sounding of a request, phrased softly.<br><br>He turned and bent forward at that, snapping Galla's chains with an almost idle gesture, as though hands pulled apart paper.<br><br>"You are a slave, and when this entire nation still has in living memory a violent mass uprising of them, and those that put it down in high positions of power, there is not much to be done for that, if there ever was. Running will only see those that want examples maintained put to hunting you down and killing you through slow excruciation. Acting out now instead and dying for it will not give you back your dignity, or give you vengeance, or notably spite any of us. Dying only means that if you had a real chance for any of that later on, you have now instead given it away forever. Better you live, and wait, and think until a right moment for any of those things. Serve in the interim. It is the only way a slave has to endure until such moments as they come."<br><br>He had heard her response to philosophy before this, and avoided it studiously in speaking to her. His tone had even become nothing but entirely matter of fact, as if just enumerating detail for her to take in and think upon however she chose. In contrast with his entrance, and even his bearing, he spoke plainly, practically.<br><br>And as he spoke, he reached forward further, hands placed along her shoulders in a grip that though it had the chill of metal to it was oddly, even delicately, gentle in the strength of it, righting her up onto her feet. There was something to his touch that had it feel as if a living touch might have. He straightened back up afterwards.<br><br>"There are many worse places in which to do so." <br><br>&nbsp;<br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 14:01:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Really, for a moment, she wondered if perhaps Catulus was trying to drive the woman insane.&nbsp; The Gorgon was obviously not one to take 'care' of something, anyone, nor would she be counted upon to 'calm' someone down.&nbsp; This fact became readily apparent when the girl would leap at her.&nbsp; The snakes reacting even before the gorgon could.&nbsp; Snapping at the girl, hissing, teeth impacting wherever they could, head, neck, face.&nbsp; Sthenae herself was not a fighter.&nbsp; In fact, she was rather pathetic in a scrape.&nbsp; And this one was no different.&nbsp; The girl leapt at her, trying to use her fists, chains and all, to drive the gorgon to the ground.<br><br>She rather succeeded, ending with her atop of the slender girl-monster.&nbsp; For a moment, surprise utterly took her over.&nbsp; Her eyes widened with it, her lips parting, she fell backwards, her ass hitting the ground rather roughly.&nbsp; The pain of it shocking the slender frame, her eyes narrowing to golden slits.&nbsp; She was going to..&nbsp; Those fangs shown, the shine of white teeth, vicious.&nbsp; But it was her eyes that drew the attention, such.. strange.. eyes.. Just as suddenly She was staring at her own reflection.&nbsp; Shock radiating through her again, two thoughts seeming to occur to her simultaneously.&nbsp; First, she had nearly turned Galla to stone..&nbsp; Nearly robbed her of her life.&nbsp; Her ability to move.&nbsp; To breathe.&nbsp; To live!&nbsp; Secondly, Agentum had a rather nice ass.<br><br>She was perhaps contemplating this second point, and wondering vaguely how she had missed that fact before this point, when he would suddenly turn towards her.&nbsp; The gorgon blushing slightly as she realized that she was rather sprawled on the floor, she hated him seeing her out of sorts.&nbsp; More so because he was always so calm.&nbsp; Sometimes it was like trying to be ones head against a brick wall.&nbsp; Scrambling to her feet she would barely even hear his words.&nbsp; Her cheeks flushing at his words, her jaw rather tightening as she would straighten the lone lines of that pristine clothe so that it fell right to the floor.&nbsp; <br><br>“When the world is fair, let me know..”&nbsp; Muttered under her breathe, her snakes hissing ominous, snapping towards Agentum, though none actually impact with his metallic skin, some even going so far as to avoid him, as if remembering broken fangs or the taste of silver.&nbsp; <br><br>Turning to Catulus she would bow her head slightly.&nbsp; “It would seem Argentum has volunteered himself to watch over the girl.”&nbsp; Crinkling her nose as she would toss towards Galla.&nbsp; “Better him than I.. Though I could use some nice.. stone.. decoration for my rooms.. I have nary much to look at in there.. And she is pretty..”&nbsp; Though the last was spoken under her breathe, those slitted eyes turning towards Sybil, a softening of her voice.&nbsp; “Sybil.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 14:44:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla's confusion was brought to even higher levels when the large silver man bent towards her and made the chains merely a horrible memory. She gasped when she found her hands free, the skin on them terribly chafed and torn. She listened to him speak, but she kept shaking her head violently, not wanting to accept his words. But they did reach her, and it became clear to her that he was one of the wisest beings to ever speak to her. Yet, what he was saying, what he was implying...no, she would never accept it. <br><br>He helped her up, pulling her to her feet by her shoulders, and she felt small, weak, vulnerable and helpless in his grip. His hands were large and they made her shrink before him. She used the newly gained freedom of her hands to re-arrange her coverings, making sure her breast was concealed safely once more. With a shiver that crossed her entire body, and with fresh tears in her eyes, tears that had not come on her long boat travel, tears that she had learned to supress while at war, tears that she did not want them to see, she said: "You might be right. You would be completely right if you were speaking to some other person. And I would bow down to your wisdom right now, if it weren't for the hatred i bear you, especially you, Silver Man. No, I refuse to do what you bid, what any of you bid! You all claim I am a slave, your slave, and yes, I am your prisoner. But I will never accept this status you impose upon me. The battles I've lost have indeed led me here, but as long as I breathe, I shall fight you. You say a slave should wait and think of better times. I shall wait. And I shall think of a time when I shall partake in your destruction. In the destructions of Rome and its allies. Perhaps you should think about that, because if what I suspect about you is true, Silver Man, you should not want a part of this. And yet you do, therefore, I can only agree with my theory. The great whore that is Rome pollutes even the heart of those pure. Inform me when your missions fail so that I may dance on the ashes of your desires." <br><br>Galla had more, oh, much more poison in her heart, and she would spill it all on them. But a sudden weariness caught up with her and as she pulled herself free of Argentum's hands, she felt the room spin with her. Perhaps it was the lack of nourishment, the sudden realization (she was not obtuze, she knew when there was no way out even if her spirit fought against it) that she was truly enslaved, or the apparition of such...creatures. She gasped for air and had to use all her strength to stand on her own legs. She kept glaring at the gathered people, a tear escaping her eye and rolling down her cheek. She heard Sthenae speak of a stone decoration and she wondered what she meant, but as she gazed upon her, more calmly now, she realized she indeed knew what she was and she recognized the danger she represented for her. The snakes, the entire demeanor...she was a sort of mythical creature she had believed in as a child. One that inspired great respect and fear, one that haunted the minds of men and the labyrinths in which lovers would foolishly wander. A creature spawned of unearthly parents. A Gorgon. She would have been killed, perhaps she should have been killed. The silver man had saved her life...Galla could not take much more knowledge. She felt the ground spinning violently now and in a matter of seconds she collapsed, fainting and hearing no more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 17:15:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He shook his head to himself, leaned down, and checked her pulse.<br><br>"You remain as high strung a race as ever. Your sense of drama may consume you all one day." said diffidently as he slung Galla up into his arms.<br><br>"I am not taking this one into my long term care. The only use I could think of for a personal slave would be bookeeping, and I've something of a doubt the young woman is much schooled in estate and financial management."<br><br>He paused again.<br><br>"All the same, this one will only serve as some sort of.. pleasure slave and maidservant, seems to be the implication I suppose, if you break her. You might consider doing that not doing much more than being the stereotype she wants to justify her outward rage and lack of inward focus against. The mighty, the wise, and the proud may wish to think twice before abandoning their self image to instead take up the one she demands you bear."<br><br>He carries her out and through the caverns, finding an alcove near his rooms to lay her back against. Indulging an errant thought, he chisels with a fingertip into the stone above her a message.<br><br>"I am hated and loved in dizzying enough variety that your own venom is a very small drop, in a very large bucket of clashing emotions. Enough people already view me as functionally an object to define their ideals within, or in defiance of that I can hardly bedgrudge you needing to do the same thing. But please do not assume I care any more when you do it than when others do. If you are going to hover around me in the future, accept that my concern begins and ends with your having a decent enough chance to live outside of agony. The penchant of your race to overcomplicate that simplest of needs and lose the chance with it to appreciate your own fine minds, is very much your race's problem. <br><br>"Or keep annoying the others in every breath you take, shouting promises of murder coupled with periodic efforts at violence and come to a twisted and broken end, followed by a pitiable afterlife given only to wretches. That is your choice.<br><br>C. Valerius Argentum."<br><br>He walked off after that to find somewhere a stone chair that could support his weight to settle back into.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 19:06:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla opened her eyes and felt sick the second she breathed. She painfully swallowed the bile that had gathered in her throat and looked around her. She was in an alcove, all alone, sitting against the wall, the light dim and the air cold and pleasant around her. Just as she thought that was a good opportunity to escape, she notices the writing on the wall. She reads the message and instantly, tears escape her eyes. She is crying freely now, openly, noisily, hitting the wall with her fist and trying to scratch away the words. Her nails are not nearly strong enough and she cannot erase the words. The truth of his words. The power of them. And she feels as if Argentum had tattooed those words in her skin, in her heart. She twisted in pain and lay on her side in the tiny alcove, thinking those words over and their implications. The wise and brave Argentum, member of her own family, kind and mystical creature she had always admired in secret, now proved to want nothing to do with her, not even aid, not even comfort her. She wept all alone and decided she would not, under any circumstances try to reach him. Galla was lying to herself because she knew she would go to him. When she would be ready. To tell him how wrong he is about her. And how right he is, at the same time.<br><br>But that moment, Galla stood up, her cheeks flushed and stained with tears, her eyes still blue and deep, but somehow swollen and tired. She walked back to the place that radiated with soft light. She manages to walk until she finds the others again. She sways a little but she reaches Catulus. With a tired, defeated glare in her eyes, she whispers: "It is true, I am your slave. But what I shall give, I shall give in hatred, and what you shall take, you shall not take easily." She almost wept again. "Tell me what you wish of me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 20:13:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As soon as Argentum left, Dionysios would step out of his own alcove.&nbsp; The satyr was a particulary handsome member of his species, a few gold rings dangled from his ears, a long and entwined grapevine was tattooed all along the side of his body.&nbsp; Strung to his back was a large axe with more grape vines engraved into it. <br><br>Dionysios snorted in the direction of Argentum as he made his way straight to the bar.&nbsp; "Well isn't he just a big cuddly toy.&nbsp; You just want to reach out and give him a good shine." He muttered sarcastically as he clomped over to the bar.&nbsp; "Wine." He asked the bartender then turned back to the others.<br><br>He leaned against the bar letting anyone get an eyeful of him.&nbsp; His life was in the forest, modesty and manners were for his more civilized half.&nbsp; Not him.&nbsp; "So what are we doing tonight?&nbsp; And please say it's something somewhat interested."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 20:13:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				While Galla is gone, Catulus moves to stand by Sibyl and Sthenae, looking grave but, above all, pensive. &nbsp;His fingertips - once rough, but now sanded with dense years of leisurely living - slide their quartz across the backs of both woman's hands. &nbsp;He seems to search for something amid the arches of the alcoves and the seams of the boards on the floor.<br><br>He says one thing the entire time: "Verona. &nbsp;Take the rest of the staff shopping for a proper dinner."<br><br>She does, after serving Dionysios both a smile and a jug of wine, and even Lop Dan and Marissa don't dare to trouble the silence Catulus presides over with a protest.<br><br>When they are gone and Dionysios arrived, Catulus strolls back to the bar. &nbsp;His fingertip traces its rim, where a chance toss of the chains chipped a splinter into relief. &nbsp;With regular strokes and careful observation, he does what he can to stroke it down, back into place, whole again.<br><br>"We may have been misled." &nbsp;Catulus lifts his gray eyes and brushes them over Dionysios. &nbsp;"Understand that I was recommended her, quite highly, by a trusted source. &nbsp;A woman, who not only fought alongside Galla and professed to know her character well, but someone who has been insightful indeed in ... past affairs."<br><br>Catulus pivots to face the Heroes, placing his hands on the bar. &nbsp;His toga drapes him loosely; his features are loose as well - idle around a charged and busy stare. &nbsp;"She said that Galla would be not only a dedicated and proficient woman, but that she would be ... affectionate to our cause as well: Protecting others, that is. &nbsp;She said, 'never have I seen loveliness in more loyal a form, or loyalty made seem so lovely."<br><br>His eyebrows lift dubiously and he rights himself. &nbsp;"We shall see. &nbsp;But my initial intent that she play confidant, confederate and companion to warm whatever beds of yours felt cold ... well ...<br><br>"I need to speak with <em>Myrine</em>." Catulus resolves grimly. &nbsp;Flashing his eyes about, he notes, "Heroes, I expect there will be no problem handling our confused and contentious captive, but I strongly urge you to try to settle her soon. &nbsp;These are precarious and dire times, and we can ill afford a problem within our own ranks. &nbsp;If not mended entirely, we at least need the wound stitched."<br><br>Reaching behind the bar, he fetches up scrolls and sets them on the counter. &nbsp;<br><br>"These are profiles on our quarry. &nbsp;I will review them with you later, but they are there for you to peruse should you be inclined. &nbsp;For now..." Catulus strolls to the upper stairs, leading to the summit of the limestone fort. &nbsp;"...I need to find out why our new house cat has instead proven a rabid tiger."<br><br>With that, he departs, a minute before Galla arrives.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 23:01:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The touch of his fingertips along the curvature of her hand brings quiet images to her mind; Catulus's face, his sense of frustration ebbing through the contact before contact broken, he goes on.&nbsp; <br><br>Making her way with delicate step Sibyl stands against the bar, a hand lightly caressing the worked wood.&nbsp; Fleeting images of past hands upon it floating through her.&nbsp; Hands holding refreshment from behind the bar, hands holding other hands, hands working the wood itself.&nbsp; <br><br>Her attention shifting away from the images Sibyl brings her thoughts to Catulus, to his words.&nbsp; The disturbance of a few moments past etching minute lines of worry through her.&nbsp; Sudden actions giving little to no warning always difficult for her, she squares her shoulders a little bringing her focus back to center as he speaks.<br><br>Cocking her head to the side giving her full ear to the sounds about her gives no further indication of aggression from the woman having been carried to her alcove.&nbsp; Sibyl turns her quiet countenance to bare on those left to ponder Catulus's words after he makes good his exit.<br><br>"She will be a problem if she cannot learn to control her outbursts.&nbsp; I care not how highly recommended she came, if she is given to sudden fits she is worthless for naught but bed warmer."&nbsp; A casual shrug of her shoulders bringing the gold in her jewelry to light, soft glints casting visual echos across the chamber. "Not that I have such need from a female, but others may."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>08-12-2008, 23:13:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In her daze, Galla believed that she had spoken to Catulus, when truly, she managed to express her servitude to the Heroes. Catulus was gone. She blushed and stepped forwards, taking in the remaining people with more caution. She saw Sthenae and the blind woman, and something else, something that was a figment of her imagination. A figment of the imagination of children all over the world. A satyr. Except, he was not imaginary. He was sitting right there, in all his glory, a magnificent specimen, enjoying the drink which he symbolizes. Galla barely managed to pull her eyes off him and she walked to each Hero. Because they were her Masters now. Because she was a slave. Because she was too much of a coward to kill herself. Because maybe she wanted to believe there was something more to life than a quick death. Because a certain person's words had actually reached beyond her wrath.<br><br>She stepped towards Sthenae, making sure she was out of the reach of even the longest snake. She did not erase her glare, but her words were true: "Forgive me. Mistress Gorgon." She whispered. "I acted out without thinking. I do not apologize for my insult, I still believe you are a vile bitch. But you are true, I am a slave, and I shall not attack you. Unless provoked. But I bid thee, forgive me for now, and try to understand me."<br><br>She bowed slightly and walked towards the bar, making a great effort of maintaining her gaze on the woman and not on the satyr. She approached her and dared to touch her hand softly, mainly to announce her presence. "Forgive me as well, lady." She said. She had always pitied the blind, and had always been kind and gentle with them, but she felt a power in this woman. A power exceeding the limitations of losing a sense. "I am not adequate for this...this change in my life. I shall never be. But I shall serve you as well, as best as I can. I would ask you to have patience with me, and know I would not harm you. Under any circumstances."<br><br>She bowed, although she did not believe the bow would be noticed took another step towards the sitting satyr. Her breath was caught somewhere in her throat. She had never seen one in her life, she had never known one so close in her proximity, but she had always believed in the legendary seducers, the servants of the Wine God, the wild denizens of ancient forests, sometimes friendly, sometimes not so friendly. She shared in their love for music and dance and in a way, understood their wild nature. Galla looked longingly at the drink he was enjoying, perhaps because her throat was dry and she had not tasted quality wine for a very, very long time. With trembling lips she whispered: "Do my eyes fool me, or are you real? Forgive my shyness, but of all the things I have witnessed this day, you are by far the strangest. And I shall serve you as well." She blushed, not knowing what that might mean.<br><br>She then adressed all of them. "When you see Catulus, tell him I have some demands as well. Clothing and quarters of my own. Also, a weapon, with which I should be allowed to train by myself. It is for my heart, not for my hand." She turned back to the satyr.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 17:59:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dionysios winked at Verona as his glass was filled then took a long swig of it surveying the two lovely ladies and their fearless leader.&nbsp; "Will we get to see this woman's use then?&nbsp; Outside the bedroom that is." He grinned a bit.&nbsp; <br><br>When Galla walked back in and Catulus had left, he looked over at her as she stared at him.&nbsp; He was a bit impressed with the way she was talking with the Gorgon, not that he had anything against the Gorgon that is.<br><br>As she walked over and stared at him, he stared back blinking a bit.&nbsp; This was a bit akward.&nbsp; But then this wasn't the first time he had to answer this question.&nbsp; "Yes I am real.&nbsp; Yes you can touch me.&nbsp; No, we don't smell like goats." He studied her for a few seconds then and grinned "As for serving me, I'm sure you will..very well." She was indeed very lovely, actually this entire team was filled with rather gorgeous individuals.&nbsp; Even the annoying silver thing looked like he might be good in bed, except for the fact that he probaly weighed quiet a bit.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 18:14:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla blushed and gasped as the implication came at her. She continued to look at the satyr, rather enchanted by his voice, by his entire demeanor. She could not understand her reaction. Surely, it was a mere result of the interraction with a fantastic creature, one she had imagined but a child's fairytale or dream. But here he was, and in his splendour, he commanded attention. She bowed her head slightly and whispered: "No, I would not think you smelled like a goat..." She held back a giggle. There was a scent coming from him, but it was not that of a goat. It was animalistic, and primal, and it kept pulling on her eyes, strangely, directing them to his muscles, and lower, and lower...<br><br>Galla gasped again and shook her head angrily. She did not understand what had gotten into her. A few minutes ago she had been on the verge of commiting murder. Or had it been half an hour ago...She had rebelled, she would still do so, against slavery, against the Heroes and what they stood for. And yet, now...she had apologized, and she had agreed to some terms. And she was staring at this marvelous creature, wondering about how she would serve him. She pulled away, confused and scared now. Utterly terrified. With a trembling voice, she whispered: "What is it you require of me?" The question was adressed to everyone in the room.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 18:27:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He smirked as she bowed to him.&nbsp; He was a bit suprised himself that she would so quickly seem to rebell against her station in life but now seemed to almost embrace it.&nbsp; He sat back on the bar drinking from his cup, watching as she asked everyone in the room what they needed.&nbsp; He looked around the room waiting for someone to say something.&nbsp; He had a few ideas as well but first the more important of them.&nbsp; "Well, if no one has anything else to do you can refill my cup."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 18:34:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla looked at him shyly and nodded, and walked around the bar slowly, careful not to run into anything. She found the wine bottle and took it with her as she crossed over and stood beside him again. With a trembling hand, she poured more wine into his glass. The red liquid hit the walls of the cup and popped out, spraying him and her as well. She almost yelped and placed the bottle back on the bar. "Forgive me." She whispered and looked at him as if stricken with fear. She looked at the wine with large, wide eyes. She felt the dryness in her throat more than ever and she gulped, trying to gather at least some saliva and aid her breathing and talking, but to no avail. She backed away slightly and looked at a neutral point, somewhere on the far-side of the room, wondering how she could have served the satyr. She felt her nakedness strike her once more, and she longed to have a dress or at least a cape to cover herself up. She felt a certain draught scrape against her bare sex and force her nipples to spring to life. She closed her legs and hugged herself, looking dejected but also pensieve.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 18:41:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He held out his glass to her watching as she pour.&nbsp; He just laughed a bit as she splashed them both.&nbsp; He reached out and took her hand before she pulled away and ran his tongue along her bare skin tasting of ehr and the wine. "Hm a much better vintage." he grinned letting her go so she could back away a bit.&nbsp; His eyes studied her nakedness a bit, noticing how shy she seemed by it.&nbsp; "You know, there is nothing wrong with being naked.&nbsp; Some of the best warriors I know fight better without clothes on.&nbsp; They are mererly a prison, as is modesty." He chuckled sipping from his now full glass.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 18:51:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla yelped again when his coarse tongue ran over her skin. She was breathing hard and looked at him as if she had been violated. Anger started building again in her and she responded, quite fiercely: "Do not lick me! What exactly do you take me for?" She took a step towards him, and she was trembling, angry and frightened. "I was- I am a warrior, and I would never fight bare! It is - wrong. To be without coverings is wrong. I am not a whore, nor your whore, nor anybody's! One who cannot be modest cannot be known as a warrior."<br><br>She glared at him, hating his smile and utterly amused look. She felt utterly naked and exposed around him, and she wanted to pull the cloth lower, so it may cover the plump swell of her buttocks, but then, her breasts, which were barely covered anyway would jut out. She blushed furiously, but did not move away from him. Goose-bumps were visible all over her exposed body, and her nipples were visible through the thread bare cloth. She felt the part of her hand which he had licked and sobbed, because the mere touch of his tongue had sent vibrations throughout her body. What was this? Why did this happen? She eyes his axe and wondered if she should just take it and fight. But he had not proved aggressive. No, there was something wrong with her. She needed to walk away from him. And yet, Galla's feet remained planted beside him, her eyes watching him sip his wine.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 18:56:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It might have been entertaining.&nbsp; Watching the stolid Argentum carry the slave girl out of the room when she had passed out.&nbsp; Might have, except Sthenae knew him well enough to know likely he would put the girl somewhere safe.&nbsp; Where she would be able to rest.&nbsp; It was a shame really, she would have liked to have seen the girl broken in hard and rough.&nbsp; <br><br>“Of course we were misled..”&nbsp; The Monster frowning as she would stroke the crimson snake, gently drawing her fingers along cool scale.&nbsp; “The girl seems to be an idiot.&nbsp; Perhaps she might have fared well against other.. human.. warriors..&nbsp; Though even that would seem a question, seeing as where she is now..&nbsp; But she seems little use to.. us..”&nbsp; Those slitted eyes drawing slowly over the satyr as he would push himself against the bar.&nbsp; This one she had seen little of, since she preferred to keep her own company, or to bother Argentum..&nbsp; Thus she let her gaze linger on him for a moment, studying.&nbsp; “Why are we wasting our time on her when we should be discussing.. well..”&nbsp; Her hand waving around the room lightly.&nbsp; The man had given some bit of explanation, but none of it really made any sense to her.. How could a -slave- help them one tiny bit, one way or another.&nbsp; Why did it matter if she was settled, or chained to Catulus' bed every night.&nbsp; It was quite frustrating, all told.&nbsp; The gorgon nodding her head to Sybil's words, which seemed to echo her own thoughts rather well.&nbsp; “She is pretty, but really, nothing more than a bedwarmer.. That I can see..”<br><br>Though before he could even begin to answer her real questions the man seemed to take it into himself to contact someone, rushing out of the room without so much as a pleasant good bye.&nbsp; “Well.. at least something..”&nbsp; Sthenae would take the profiles, several of them, opening the one on top and perusing the information therein.&nbsp; “The Numidian Brute..”&nbsp; Whispered quietly as she would begin to look over the scroll.&nbsp; Her silent perusal rather rudely interrupted as the girl came in, flitting about like some sort of deranged butterfly.&nbsp; The Gorgon would smile as the girl called her a vile bitch, her head tilting, merely staring at the creature.&nbsp; It was.. difficult.. to not simply make her shut up in the easiest manner, yet soon enough her butterfly like attention span was on someone else.. or rather.. something else.<br><br>“You know, slave girl, I suppose it would be a pleasant background to have your ass lifted over the bar while Dionysios here makes pleasant use of you..”&nbsp; Of course, the two of them seemed rather intent upon one another, no doubt such would begin to happen on its own, soon enough.&nbsp; Smiling to Sybil.&nbsp; “Perhaps we should retire to the library and discuss matters of more Importance as the girl here is.. tamed?”&nbsp; Perhaps it was what Catulus meant, perhaps not, but the monsterous girl would carefully gather the scrolls against her chest, moving towards the door, she knew that it was likely she would find Argentum in the tiny library, and really, she would be able to focus better without the girl's shrill condemnations in the background of her thoughts.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 18:57:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He arched an eyebrow a bit as she lashed out at him. &nbsp;"You get to meet a legendary creature and the first thing you do is lash out at him for his way of living? &nbsp;Now that's just not very nice. &nbsp;No one used the word whore but you." &nbsp;He grinned a bit waiting to see if she would do something. &nbsp;She did look like she might want to strike him and he was interested indeed. &nbsp;Satyrs were creatures of passion and passion could be almost anything. &nbsp;"Well, if you think hitting me will make you feel better then go ahead. &nbsp;But all clothing does is slow you down. &nbsp;It's much easier to dodge say..an axe blow when you don't have cloth flapping behind you." &nbsp;He took another long slip as he watched her waiting to see if she would either act, walk away or just stand there staring at him.<br><br>He couldn't help but to laugh at the Gorgon's suggestion and he smiled winking at Sthenae. "You sure you wouldn't like to help Madam Gorgon?&nbsp; It would such fun to have two lovely creatures such as yourself here."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 19:09:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				With one ear, she heard Sthenae's aggressive answer and she snarled. She would get back at her. One day. Soon. But now, it was him and her. She raised her own eyebrow, surprised at his apparent offence. She was beet root red by now and the mention of battle stirred something in her. The love of battle. The need to fight. The need to lash out an someone. Anyone. Perhaps because he had made her feel something else than fear. Perhaps because he had <em>licked</em> her. Perhaps because Sthenae's suggestion has sent more shivers through her, and they all seemed to echo within her still untouched cunt. She snarled again, and, without warning, using only her strong, muscular legs, she jumped up on the bar. Not even at this height did she truly loom over him, but she had a slight advantage and she kicked at him. Actually, she kicked at his wine cup, meaning to spill it over him.<br><br>"Don't provoke me, <em>legendary creature</em>. It was weak of me, it is true. I have been disarmed today, disarmed to see where I have been taken. But you do not know my ways, or my beliefs. Let us see if clothing truely slows me down, satyr. Fight me. It would be an honour to defeat you." She jumped again, this time landing on her hands and flipping off the bar, a few feet away. She was smiling now, but it was a furious, wild smile, her hair was disheveled and her clothes were all but hanging off her. She didn't even care anymore. She motioned for him to come forth.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 19:13:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The Gorgon would merely smile at his suggestion.&nbsp; Her face so delicate.&nbsp; So elfin, though the creatures that surrounded her head like a halo would hiss and writhe, seeming to move towards the two, all except the crimson snake that curled itself around her neck.&nbsp; “Oh nae, that is quite fine.&nbsp; Besides..”&nbsp; Watching the girl jump atop of the bar the monsterous girl would merely lift her shoulders.&nbsp; “It looks well enough like ye still have to work on taming one little Monster.. Let us not get greedy and try to make it two..”&nbsp; Though she would stall, not yet moving towards the library, rather stopping for a moment to watch, wincing slightly at the girl's movement.<br><br>“Really Slaveling..&nbsp; Do you not think you are perhaps a little.. over emotional.. One moment you are submitting, the next you are kicking people.. Tsk..”&nbsp; And yet she grinned, what the girl needed was a spanking.. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 19:24:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dionysios glared at her as kicked the wine cup from his hand.&nbsp; He snarled a bit looking up at her. "No one wastes my wine!" he bellowed quiet angry now.&nbsp; He undid his axe and set it down.&nbsp; He reached for the wine glass and tossed it at her intending to distract her long enough.&nbsp; using his satyr legs (<em>leaping</em>) he jumped up onto the bar next to her and quickly shoulder himself into her as to knock her back and/or off.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 19:46:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				[O.O.C. - Amendment to my offer of adjudication: The players are working the results out by themselves, and so I will not be adjudicating their actions.]
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>09-12-2008, 21:29:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A slight frown as the woman touches her hand, her pity easily ebbing through the bond unwished for nor desired, Sibyl pulls her hand away.&nbsp; The oil of revulsion crawling across her skin like ants on sweetwater.<br><br>The mention of the library a welcome respite as she turns slightly, careful well known steps awaiting her as she turns.<br><br>Sudden violence brings a change of posture, hands coming to her breast level, palms outward she turns back to 'face' the confrontation.&nbsp; Sudden change of posture, coupled with the reek of aggression and a foot slightly out of step sends a waft of fear to her own nose, stumbling, a look of incredulity marring her elegant features as she falls, landing in an inglorious heap on her buttocks, a started eep spewing from full lip from a slip completely out of character for the normally composed woman.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 01:24:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Oh it was rich!&nbsp; The satyr squaring off with the mouthy slave-girl.&nbsp; The Gorgon grinning rather widely, her face near beautiful when she chose to smile.&nbsp; Though the snakes upon her head were rather agitated by the sudden movements, hissing and lunging towards what they felt, though none were long enough to even get close to the action.&nbsp; She rather wanted to watch the woman get beat down, for no doubt, the Satyr would win.. Yet her attention was diverted by the thump beside her, Sybil falling rather unceremoniously on her ass.<br><br>“Careful!”&nbsp; She had seen nothing near the woman, and had yet to see her be so clumsy..&nbsp; She would lean down, careful to keep those hissing denizens of her head from being near enough to touch the other woman. “Need a hand?”&nbsp; Slender fingers brushing the other woman's wrist, likely to let her know where said help could be found.&nbsp; Should it be accepted she would lift her to her feet, stepping away once again, unused to being so close to someone else.&nbsp; “It would seem our little slave has yet to learn the lesson.. Or perhaps she is a liar.&nbsp; You would likely know more than myself..”&nbsp; That wry little smile as she would re-gather the scrolls, casting another glance towards the two.<br><br>“To the library?”&nbsp; Whatever happened, and she did hope the satyr came out on top, in more than one sense, was nary her concern.&nbsp; “We have quite a few sightings from what I can see here..&nbsp; And I would rather be fighting them than having to tend to some unruly slave.. Really.. you would think Catulus would be able to afford more capable help..”&nbsp; Those words spoken loud enough that the girl could not help but hear her.&nbsp; The snake laden girl moving towards the door, slipping through it, moving towards the familiar library.&nbsp; Many an afternoon of the last month spent there playing chess, or sometimes pushing Argentum into reading aloud of one of his philosophy books.. <br><br>“Ah, a pirate!”&nbsp; She very nearly wanted to giggle.&nbsp; That could be fun..&nbsp; Moving into the library she would look up from the opened scroll to watch Argentum a moment.&nbsp; Sometimes it was hard for her to tell if he was truly alive, his chest barely seeming to move.&nbsp; It was almost as though someone had dressed a statue and plopped it down in the middle of the library.&nbsp; <br><br>“Greetings Argentum..&nbsp; Catulus delivered the scrolls with the most recent sightings of..”&nbsp; What would she call them?&nbsp; The enemies of Rome?&nbsp; Just thinking about it made her want to roll her eyes.&nbsp; Yet she would merely lift her shoulders.&nbsp; “You know, Monsters and umm.. Freaks..”&nbsp; Flushing a little, as her kind would have likely showed up in just such scrolls.. If such an organization had existed back then.&nbsp; The Gorgon leaning down to deposit all the scrolls upon the table, catching one as it would try to roll off.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 01:46:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Giving a small self deprecating smile, she stood, dusting off her hands.&nbsp; "I am fine.&nbsp; I stepped on the back of my gown as I moved to avoid their little altercation.&nbsp; Please, let us repair to the library to avoid this foolishness.&nbsp; Perhaps our friend there can tame her."&nbsp; <br><br>A roll of her shoulders accompanied her soft voice as she turned again seeking the library.&nbsp; <br><br>A soft smile of greeting to Argantum as she seated herself, waiting for one of them to read the scrolls outloud.&nbsp; Her hands folded demurely in her lap.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 03:11:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He smiled, just a bit, but it was gentle for all that, nodding to them both. He had been reading Cicero's works now it seemed, which Sthenae knew was enough of a tell that he was in a poorer mood. He hated Cicero as much as he hated anyone. Personally.<br><br>"We are both monsters and freaks Sthenae. Alluring appearance though we might be given all the same."<br><br>He began to look through the scrolls before him.<br><br>"Still, these ones inflict themselves in cruelty on such innocents as there are. And so are worse than we."<br><br>And a sigh.<br><br>"A Judean. Unfortunate to find among otherwise pillagers and power mad creatures, though the Amazon is nearly as bad. Their land breeds a certain... fanaticism. As though their generations of suffering have weighed them down to the point where something has come disjointed in their souls. A people who have defined themselves through monomania and survived on nothing but its bittern devotion for thousands of years are not to take lightly. It will be a poor idea to take her alive."<br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 03:45:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man of silver was likely the only one who made her feel even slightly relaxed.&nbsp; The monster perching upon the edge of the table, those slender legs crossing.&nbsp; “We should pick one and focus upon it.. methinks..”&nbsp; leaning forward to grasp the one in his hand, the crimson snake hissing at him, though she was careful not to get close enough that they would snap at his flesh.&nbsp; “The Panther Queen.. Not terribly imaginative, is she?”&nbsp; Her eyes scanning down the scroll, reading aloud for the benefit of Sybil.<br><br>“Judaen as you said..&nbsp; A Monarch.. That could be trouble if she has the army under her command..”&nbsp; Reading down farther she would stop.&nbsp; “It would seem she has some sort of regenerative power.. and a sword that has been rumored to cut through stone as if it were butter..”&nbsp; Looking up at Argentum, her brow lofted slightly.&nbsp; “Seems we would need some serious planning for this one..&nbsp; Looks like she took over.. Arran..&nbsp; And..”&nbsp; Stopping for a moment, the snakes around her head writhing in agitation, her eyes widening slightly.&nbsp; “She.. ah.. apparently.. I rumored to control.. umm.. Broods of Dragons..”&nbsp; How on earth would they overcome that.. <br><br>Yet she was too stubborn to put the scroll down, instead grasping it in her hand as though it might bite her any moment.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 05:03:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				*LIBRARY*<br><br>Expanded research on the enemies mentioned merits yet more information:<br><br>Records of combat in Pontus [OOC: Modern day Northern Turkey] reveal possible interesting parallels with the case files.&nbsp; <br><br>An Amazon General is cited as launching an ambush against the Greek King, Mithridates' bandit allies, who had been sent to pacify a pro-Roman rebellion in the town of Themiscyra, heartland of the Amazon nations.&nbsp; This Amazon leader is named as Sabra, and she apparently played a pivotal role in the battle.&nbsp; However, she then disappears from records for a period of months.&nbsp; It is notable that the battle record notes that, "the native hordes and primitives, fomented by the rhetoric and might of The Bandit God, Azuriel, played the part of foremost infantry element in this conflict."<br><br>Three months later, Sabra is listed as a likely bandit leader in raids against the Roman strongpoint and trading center of Amisos, about forty miles from Themiscyra.&nbsp; She is cited in such reports for three more months, then vanishes.&nbsp; The next time she appears is in the Caucasus mountains, dominating the kingdom of Caucasian Albania, also known as Arran, from behind the throne.<br><br><br>* * *<br><br>Themiscyra is also listed in Roman trading records as the capitol of slave trading during the last year of the eight-year struggle against Mithridates - 66 BC.&nbsp; Such records indicate all slaving revenues - even those of independent traders - paid at least a percentage of their revenue to a slaving conglomerate operating in Themiscyra and down the nearby rivers.&nbsp; This slaving empire is titled as "The Scarlet Harvest."&nbsp; It's leader is a man listed only as "The Reaver."&nbsp; However, many of the transactions listed on the records cite the person involved in the transaction as "Lia," apparently the lieutenant or executive operative of the Scarlet Harvest.&nbsp; <br><br>This is notable in that Lia matches the description of the Pink Demon: Short, Sacae in heritage, wearing human and animal skins, clad in pink boots and having blond pigtails.&nbsp; Furthermore, a number of these records - those dealing with independent slave traders - have memorandum noting that the Romans, quote, "Found the trader in remiss of his due taxes paid to the Republic and to The Scarlet Harvest.&nbsp; The account was settled."&nbsp; Sometimes, it notes that "the account was settled with the fatality of the offending trader."<br><br>The account that describes Lia was written by a Legate of General Pompey's, tasked with coordinating business around Amisos and Themiscyra on the behalf of the Senate - a man named Dominus.&nbsp; Dominus describes a dinner with Lia, hosted by her, and mentions, "her most vulgar manners, which were curiously balanced with a fierce attention to her own barbarian sense of decorum."&nbsp; According to Dominus, Lia used napkins made of human skin, and bowls made out of human skulls.&nbsp; <br><br>It is also noted that Dominus is now a Magistrate presiding over the city of Nysa-Scythopolis, located in Judea.<br><br>* * *<br><br>The pirate, Lucius, was sighted most recently.&nbsp; He put in port at Lilybaeum, a week ago, and set sail east along the southern shore.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 06:22:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He rolled his eyes at the crimson snake, before moving his hands over those of Sthenae's that clutched at the scroll, easing it out of her grip in soothing strokes over her fingers, withdrawing and putting it on the table, then straightening it out.<br><br>"What we can do is start small and work up. This group is newly created. We hardly know the others. Taking on some lesser targets, like the Brute, or that pirate, will let us familiarize ourselves with each other's capabilities and work to compliment them better. We serve those we are ostensibly defending poorly if we rush around unthinkingly and ineffectively. When we are an actual team, we move on to enemies we need to take as one"<br><br>"When the time then comes for the queen, I think besides there will be some worth in making the.. atmosphere the Republic has taken on work for us. She rules a kingdom. The notables, as you might call them, of the political factions of the day, seek to advance themselves and their station through military conquest in other lands. It would not be hard to steer one of them towards hers, and draw her out thusly, giving cover to our own activities against her."<br><br>And perhaps let the people of the Republic have a few less demagogues to labour under the burden of in the aftermath, if we're lucky, went thoughts that extended on the matter.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 07:02:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That slight flush as she would release the scroll, biting her lip softly.&nbsp; The gorgon still feeling more than a little overwhelmed as she would grasp one of the other scrolls, opening it to reveal the status of the Brute.&nbsp; “You are right.. Working our way up will be much better than starting at the top..”&nbsp; Laughing softly as she would let her gaze scan over the words on the scroll, having to take a moment to translate them from Latin..&nbsp; “Seems this.. Brute.. Has been seen in the Numidian, in the Mountains..&nbsp; Swift and Strong..”&nbsp; Biting her lip at the lack of information.&nbsp; “Seems he has been troubling the caravans that travel to Carthage..”<br><br>Leaning her head back lightly, biting her lip.&nbsp; One dainty foot kicking at the air as she would consider.&nbsp; “I suppose we could lose that little bit of intel against him.. Perhaps pose as a caravan, or shadow one already going in that direction..”&nbsp; It would be an easy enough ruse.&nbsp; That golden, slitted gaze shifting to Argentum, and then to Sybil.&nbsp; “Draw him out and then defeat him.. Shouldn't be too hard, one against.. how many?&nbsp; Four?&nbsp; Five if we take the slave girl with us.. Though what use she would be is beyond me..”&nbsp; The Gorgon had little knowledge of fair-play, and fully expected them to use every resource allowed them.&nbsp; “Likely any one of us could take him alone..” That wry little smile, knowing she would nary be able to hold up in a fight.. but who said she had to fight..<br><br>“I suppose this settles it, we shall take a trip to the Atlas Mountains for a little.. expedition?”&nbsp; The crimson serpent hissing softly in commentary, though the others were strangely quiet, laying against her head, perhaps sleeping, perhaps merely waiting for something to enter in their sphere of influence..
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 07:11:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"That sounds a decent enough strategem, yes."<br><br>A thoughtful look.<br><br>"As to the slave girl though.. I'm disinclined to bring her along. She's as likely to try running in the night as anything, and if she fights alongside us, it will only be because she has something to prove at the expense of everyone including herself. It's an easy way to get people killed."<br><br>"Which, I'm not sure why is such a great shock. She is a slave taken in war, that was a soldier in it. Her nature being less than pleased and peaceable is only natural."<br><br>He eyes her mostly quiescent snakes as he speaks, giving her a fuller look.<br><br>"You yourself are well though? Your.. extensions are rarely as that."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 07:20:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That slight arch of her brow as he would speak of the girl.&nbsp; “Why should I care if she offs herself, saves the rest of us the trouble..”&nbsp; That wry smile as she would lightly tap her fingers against the scroll, slitted gaze narrowing.&nbsp; “She would make most excellent bait..&nbsp; Show a little flesh.. Dangle her..”&nbsp; She would quiet at his look.&nbsp; That stern countenance.&nbsp; Clearing her throat she would wave her hand. “Perhaps you are right, besides, she might get someone else killed as well, and there are few enough of us as it is..”<br><br>Tapping her lip lightly.&nbsp; “Well, she did not seem to get on well with the resident Satyr, last I saw, she had made quite a mess of the wine.. and was about to get her ass spanked..”&nbsp; A wide smile at that, though it was quickly quelled as he would change the subject rather suddenly to her own health.&nbsp; Her brows furrowed, turning her attention to the crimson snake in her field of view.&nbsp; She could go hours without noticing them.&nbsp; Her hand sliding up to gently draw over the quiet serpents on her head.&nbsp; “They seem fine enough.. oh.. you mean..”&nbsp; She would shake her head lightly, the snakes leaping up, hissing and writhing as though to find the meaning of the sudden movement.&nbsp; <br><br>“They are not always so annoying as you seem to think..”&nbsp; Chastising, though with a smile, knowing he had suffered through several bouts of snake bites just by being near her, regardless of the fact that they were unable to penetrate his skin..
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 07:30:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Leaning forward in her chair with a quiet nod brings little sparkling musical notes from her earrings as they flutter lightly beneath her ears.<br><br>"That does seem to be the most logical approach. &nbsp;I was not relishing the thought of going after this woman till we have more intelligence. &nbsp;How difficult would it be to arrange a caravan of our own in that direction? &nbsp;The thought of joining one already established," after a pregnant pause, she contines holding up one finger then another as she brings her points to bare. &nbsp;"brings problems two fold. &nbsp;First, the very real possibility that we would be forced to wait for, the gods knows how long, till another heads that direction, and second.. &nbsp;there will be innocents. &nbsp;I do not enjoy the thought of having untrained and unknown bodies with us in such a situation.&nbsp; As far as the girl is concerned?&nbsp; I care not."<br><br>Having said her piece Sibyl leans back in her chair running an index finger lightly across her full lower lip. &nbsp;The habitual gesture one which brings peace to her being, bringing her thoughts to calm contemplation. &nbsp;Crossing a leg over her knee, a trim elegant ankle exposed beneath the white line of her shift as she taps a foot raised above the floor, keeping time with a music only she can hear.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 07:34:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He shakes his head at her words of Galla.<br><br>"Ours is the dignity of song and story indeed. Heroes of legend we."<br><br>His thoughts then turned back to her otherwise usual talk of vicious pleasures. But she had halted on herself in them this time, and that was something at least, or at least to him. It might not have been actual consideration, but it was close, and close was sometimes what he had to settle for in Rome. More than sometimes.<br><br>He reached a hand forward despite the snakes, and rested in on her cheek, lingering in the cool touch on her soft skin, offering a thanks outside of his words.<br><br>"I know you go against impulse. I appreciate that. And no, they are not /so/ annoying I suppose. Perhaps an aquired taste."<br><br>He brushed a thumb back and forth before withdrawing his hand back to the scrolls at that.<br><br>He looks to Sibyl afterwards.<br><br>"Wisdom in that. Even were one somehow unconcerned with the potential carnage of such a thing, a crowd of the untrained, scattering every which witless way, would only impair anyone attempting anything. We don't lack for wealthy patrons however, so I imagine putting together one of our own would be entirely simple."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 07:49:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her head tilting towards Sybil as she would speak, the hissing of snakes jarring when paired with the sweet sound of precious tinkling.&nbsp; Cool fingers touch her cheek, her eyes closing briefly, leaning into his touch, though he is quickly rewarded by the snap and jarring bite of multiple snakes, awakened by her rather rude shaking earlier.&nbsp; Her lips draw across his wrist before his hand retreats, one snake trying to hold onto him, though sharp dainty teeth would scrape along the metal, unable to sink into it.&nbsp; A soft flush to her cheeks, the gorgon shifting upon the edge of the table, clearing her throat.&nbsp; <br><br>“I apologize.. I am.. Unused.. to thinking of others.&nbsp; Perhaps..”&nbsp; It was hard for her to be gracious, selfishness tending to color most of her interactions.&nbsp; “Perhaps I am blessed to have those to guide me in this..”&nbsp; Taking a deep breath she would shake her head, a shiver running down her spine.&nbsp; It was quite the paradigm shift for her.&nbsp; “But yes, I do nary think it would be hard to arrange for something.&nbsp; Some covered wagons, boxes, perhaps even some items of value to be seen from afar, to draw him in..”&nbsp; Her brows furrowing.&nbsp; “Expensive silks.. Incense..&nbsp; We will also need to arrange for some disguise.. I can wear a scarf easily enough.. Though what shall we do about Argentum's skin?&nbsp; Perhaps some coal to darken it, so that the sun doth not reflect so?”<br><br>Wetting her lips lightly as she would study him.&nbsp; Trying to get past her sudden shyness after the touch.&nbsp; It was still odd to her to have someone to call friend, and even more so that he seemed to nonplussed by her usual behavior..
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 08:08:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A rueful expression at the long familliar drag of fangs on metal.<br><br>"I wonder sometimes if it would be worth feeding them mice, but I'm not sure that would work exactly."<br><br>He paused.<br><br>"I suppose I could feed you mice on their behalf? But it lends to bizarre imagery of them in place of a plate of grapes fed to you as you recline on a divan."<br><br>It was almost an actual joke. He even smiled to Sthenae, if in that usual calmly bemused way when his smiles were sincere, though there was a warmth to it all the same.<br><br>"As for the caravan.. I can always just stay inside the main wagon, keep it covered, I'll emerge when the fight ensues, that sort of thing."<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 08:12:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"As disguises go, a leper's rags would be easy enough for they cover from start to end, wrapping well lest a bit fall now and again. &nbsp;As far as the other, an actual caravan with legitimate cargo could be sold at journey's end for a tidy profit. &nbsp;We could carry a good deal more in supplies and if needs be, we would have a way in which to remove the wounded. &nbsp;However, we have one glaring issue. &nbsp;Caravans do not go about with but four people. &nbsp;It would smell of a trap. &nbsp;No, like as not he would avoid us completely. &nbsp;We will, whether we will or not, &nbsp;we will need to hire a few mercenary types to act as guards."<br><br>Stopping a moment to consider their predicament and the puzzle before them Sibyl listens intently for sounds emanating from the other room. &nbsp;Her curiosity giving a lift to elegant brow as she waits for her companions to further their discussion.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 08:19:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her lips would part, nearly in shock at his suggestion.&nbsp; He could see those sharp snake fangs glinting against the darker contours of her lips.&nbsp; “I.. mice?”&nbsp; She was not disgusted, exactly, merely the mental picture that he composed.&nbsp; Her head in his lap as he would dangle the tiny rodents over her fanged mouth.&nbsp; “I.. err.. well..”&nbsp; Was he joking?&nbsp; But he never ever joked!&nbsp; Ever..&nbsp; She would clear her throat as Sybil would speak, drawing them rather pointedly back to the conversation over the caravan.&nbsp; <br><br>“Err.. I am sure a few mercenaries could be found, especially if we offered to share the profits of such a venture with them..”&nbsp; Her slitted gaze drawing back to Argentum once more.&nbsp; “How many do you think we would need to make it look legitimate?&nbsp; Perhaps a small guard of five?&nbsp; Six?&nbsp; We do not want to scare him away afterall.. Maybe only three?”&nbsp; Her soft lips pursed into a little moue as she would think of this.&nbsp; “I.. I honestly have nary an idea what the norm would be in this situation..”&nbsp; <br><br>Tapping the scroll against her opened palm she would lean back, recrossing her legs in front of her, trying to be matter-of-fact as possible, to keep her mind off the soft touch of silver to cheek.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 08:41:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				An inclination of his head.<br><br>"Grapes instead then, to be sure."<br><br>Drumming his fingers along the desk with a clank as he thought over the Sibyl and Sthenae's commentary.<br><br>"It depends on the sort of caravan we present a front of I would suppose. Too poor and small and it would not be with his time. Too large and lacking a horde of guards, it would be a blatant trap, yes. Something middling.. an extra five guards, who I imagine could be hired as mercenaries, yes."<br><br>He looked to the Sibyl as he continued.<br><br>"If you do not mind my asking lady Oracle, are you oriented around martial conflict any? I know our serpentine companion has a particular potency she can bring to bear in such situations, and I am, if nothing else, animate for such purposes, but I am I must confess unfamilliar with the support you can give. Truth be told my hopes run to that your facility might rest with predicting the movements of our enemies over anything else, it would be a great help."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 08:58:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the others walked out of the room, Galla collapsed on the bar and then on the wine-stained ground. The impact of the satyr's torso sent her flying, but the puddle that she had created sent her to the ground, and she was now on one side, her hip having impacted with the ground hard. She yelled as she landed, and the only thing she managed to do is hit the satyr in his stomach. However, that being a hit wasted by her fall, it would not do much damage. <br><br>And now she was on the ground, her hip bruised, her hands clawing at the floor, but no grip could be made, due to the puddle. She didn't even have time to counter-attack.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 10:10:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I have skill in physical combat, should the need arise.&nbsp; My skill in prophecy runs to things I can place hand upon.&nbsp; I must touch, to know.&nbsp; If something could be found that has been within his hand I can make some sort of divination."&nbsp; <br><br>Cocking her head slightly, she gives a slight amused smirk.&nbsp; "Speaking of physical combat.&nbsp; From the sounds of it, our newest companion is finding it not to her liking."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 15:34:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dionysios seemed to almost be lost in the passions that were aroused by the fighting.&nbsp; He looked down at her as she hit him with a punch to his stomach.&nbsp; He stumbled a bit then grumbling he reached out and grabbed her ankle.&nbsp; He started to pull her closer to him, sitting down as he did so.&nbsp; "You want to play rough, we can do this roughly!" he said as he pulled her closer.<br><br>He fought and grappled with her until he could get her across his lap.&nbsp; As soon as her naked ass was somewhat in view he flattened his hand and brought it down hard upon her ass.&nbsp; He kept bringing it down intent on making her giving up.&nbsp; With each slap he smirked as he watched her well-toned buttocks vibrating with the impact.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 16:38:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Ahhh! Stop!" Screamed Galla as she realized she was being spanked. SPANKED! Like a naughty child. Only it was harder, and rougher, and the erotic element was obvious. His palm was calloused on her soft skin and she squealed desperately as each hit fell, oh, so painfully close to the apex of her thighs. The way he had positioned her, across his lap, made her breasts crush against his thighs, and the rocking imposed by the spanks made her shift uncomfortably to and fro. <br><br>"Release me, satyr!" She howled as she writhed and tried to avoid his hits, only managing to wiggle her bare ass for him. With her hands she searched wildly for something hard, something that could be used as a weapon. Upon the tenth hit, she felt it and grabbed it violently. Screaming, she flung the cup she had kicked out of his hand onto his head. "I said, release me!" In the momentary distraction, she tried to crawl away, kicking and screaming at him, her ass still poised in the air.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 16:49:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He smirked as he continued to spank her.&nbsp; His hand kept hitting her ass, the feel of her breasts against his thighs caused him to grow hard, his erection brushing against her bare skin.<br><br>The cup slammed into his horns, not enough to seriously hurt him but he was momentarily dazed enough to let er crawl away.&nbsp; He growled a bit and reached out to grab at her ankle again.&nbsp; He tugged again and pulled her close bringing his hand down again. "I'll stop when you admit you've lost!" he bellowed as he slammed his hand down again.&nbsp; He pulled her close trying to wrap one arm around to hold her close to him as he used the other hand to slap her ass again.&nbsp; His cock pressed against her a bit, quiet turned on by her struggle.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 16:54:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Never!" She bellowed back, as he reached over and pulled her by her ankle again. This time, she was horrified to see he was hard. Very hard indeed. All the more reason to fight him. As blow after blow fell, and his grip on her did not fail, Galla started pulling and writhing, hoping to push him off. She did not achieve her goal, but her garments could take no more pressure. A loud tear permeated the air and suddenly, she found herself naked - completely naked -, sprawled across his lap, her ass now red from the heavy hitting. She shrieked and gave one final hit, this time aiming for his groin. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 16:59:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He laughed as her garments tore, almost receiving a punch in the groin for his trouble.&nbsp; He moved over a bit at the last second as she punched his thigh instead.&nbsp; He swore a bit grabbing her hair instead and pushing back as his cock brushed against her again. He slapped her ass again a few more times enjoying the shade of red. "Hmm like fresh wine.." he smirked and moved the hand lower to brush against her nether regions a bit.&nbsp; "I like your spirit but you don't seem willing to serve for someone who offered to serve me." he laughed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 17:05:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The second she felt his hand touch her exposed pussy, she tensed. And stopped fighting, realizing that now she was completely naked, vulnerable, visible to him. She had not felt so utterly helpless for a long time. She tried to pull away, she tried to push him away, but her powers had left her, a combination of everything that had happened to her that day and the days before, being the main reason. She heard his words, he was amused, but it was also as if he was chiding her...for not serving. Was this serving? Did she truly have to accept their humour, their opinions, their proposals, and did she truly have to feed their sexual needs? Galla wondered, she actually thought about her position again, and the words that Argentum had uttered...<br><br>She was breathing hard now, trying not to jerk her head too hard, for fear of him pulling her hair out, and she trembled every time she felt his cock against her. She did not reply to his statement, she could not. But she did squirm, trying to close her legs, to cut off his access, since she did not want him to discover the heat coming from her cunt. A heat which she had rarely felt arise. A heat which no man, legendary beast or not, had ever felt. She whimpered and a tear fell down her face.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 17:17:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He smirked and tugged on her hair a bit hard to warn her to keep them spread.&nbsp; "Now..my dear Galla.." he grinned as his fingers discovered the hear radiating from her.&nbsp; "You seem to be enjoying this quiet a bit and there is nothing wrong with that." His fingers ran along her slit, tempting her flower to open its petals.&nbsp; "My kind are creatures of passion.." he whispered as he gently explored her treasures.&nbsp; "..passion for battle, for drinking...for fucking.&nbsp; There is nothing wrong with given into our passions as Dionysus teaches us.&nbsp; They make us strong..fuel us." At the word strong he gently worked a finger inside of her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 17:53:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla listened to him speak, and she felt a painful, red as wine blush flood her cheeks. But when his fingers probed the moist flower between her thighs, she screamed out loud and writhed, although her thighs remained spread. "Nno...please, don't..." She whimpered, feeling her labia pushed apart by his thick, curious finger. "I have never..." She wanted to say "given in". She had never given in to passions, she had never even explored that side of herself. She had stomped all womanly needs, in the favour of battle. She had never stopped to think what a man's touch would be like. She had felt the touch of a woman, but she had not pursued it. She clenched her muscles, and his finger got pulled in, further within her cunt, which was becoming more and more moist. <br><br>"I have never known a man." She gasped in the end, defeated. She did not feel strong. She felt weak. Abandoned. Vulnerable and exposed. And more than anything, she felt excited and eager. Eager for something perverse, for something basic. Eager to be filled, touched, tasted and consumed. And she cried out in pain and shame as these realizations hit her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 17:58:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A virgin was even better!&nbsp; Dionysios smiled as his finger was pulled in, feeling how moist she was&nbsp; He smiled as he ran a hand along her back.&nbsp; "It is okay, we will fix that.&nbsp; There is no shame in living through your passions Galla.&nbsp; None at all.&nbsp; I'm going to show you that."&nbsp; He slowly withdrew his finger out of her, moving her back just a bit so she was on his lap, his cock brushing against her.&nbsp; He adjusted himself just a bit then moved ehr down a bit so his penis would thrust forward and sink into her cunt.<br><br>He knew it might hurt at first but he needed her pain to be over so she could fully enjoy the passion he would show her.&nbsp; Dionysios gasped happily as he felt her moist cunt engulfing him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 19:09:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla cried out in pain as he slipped his cock in her tight passage. "Oh, Gods above and below!" She gasped, not believing how on earth his immense cock would ever fit in her unused pussy. She writhed, this time not in an effort to escape him, but in an effort to receive him. Her eyes, which had been closed shut until then were now open and bulging. She had nothing to hold onto, and though he offered plenty of support, her weight was still pushing her down, slowly forcing her to open around the impaling shaft.<br><br>And when she thought that there would be no more pain, she was wrong. The bulging head of his cock reached the tender barricade of her hymen. Time seemed to slow down, and Galla felt every shy rivulet of blood escape the tight confines of her pussy. As he broke through, she yelled, her voice echoing in the deserted cellar. Tears came flowing down her cheeks and she grabbed at his arms for support. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 19:12:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Ssshh" he whispered as she cried out then yelled in pain.&nbsp; He gently wrapped his hands around her waist as he felt his cock slice through her hymen.&nbsp; He let her tears die down for a few seconds letting her get use to it then continued moving her into him.&nbsp; "Press down..it hurts now but press down.." he whispered to her.&nbsp; He thrust up to help her a bit letting her get use to the feeling then he lifted her just a bit by the waist, dropping her back down.&nbsp; Slowly he started to move and bounce her on his lap, letting her get use to the feeling of his cock thrusting into her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 19:17:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His voice, a voice she had often dreamt off when she was a child, not in this situation, of course, was melodious and calming, and his body was all but inviting her to fuck herself on his phallus. Which is what she did. Against her better judgement at first, out of pure necessity afterwards. She felt her virgin blood mix with her pussy juices, and this enabled her to shift with less pain, until, finally, the pain disappeared and was replaced by a most pleasant friction. His help aided her immensely, allowing her to properly position her legs so she could bounce up and down without putting strain on her already strained muscles. <br><br>Her breasts were without support, and they swayed as she did, her nipples hard little nubs now, her areolas enlarged by the sexual excitement that was slowly passing through Galla's persona. She had forgotten about slavery, she had forgotten about Amazons. For that time, she had forgotten about everything other than the satyr and his claiming cock. Her lips parted and out came a soft gasp, doubled by a moan. She lay her head back and pressed down. Hard.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 19:24:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He laughed happily as she started to realize how much pleasure could be found here.&nbsp; He panted a bit as he helped her press down against him, bouncing her on his lap.&nbsp; As she laid her head back, he leaned in planting soft kisses and bites on her throat.&nbsp; His left hand stayed on her waist, helping her move while the other hand slid along her toned body, exploring every muscle and inch of beatiful skin.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 21:36:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Having been listening to the violent discourse in the other room, her ears were finely attuned to the shift in sound.&nbsp; Sitting upright, Sibyl leans forward a bit cocking her head to better catch the elusive scent of rut wafting casually through to join them in the library.&nbsp; The sounds of coupling giving a very faint echo to her senses.<br><br>"Hmm..&nbsp; I do not believe they are continuing with their violent activities.&nbsp; In fact, I think they are getting on quite well, by the sounds of it.&nbsp; Apparently she is of some use after all."<br><br>Leaning back in her chair, a look of quiet contentment on her face as her olfactory senses took enjoyment from the scent.&nbsp; A almost inaudible purr rumbling slowly through her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>10-12-2008, 22:09:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla moaned again, when his lips and teeth found the sensitive skin of her throat and took claim of it. "Oh, gods..." She whispered as she continued to move on his cock, her nether lips engulfing him, her muscles stretching to permit him entrance. Deeper and deeper. She did not fathom that her channel was that deep. Or that wet. She felt the scent of sex, a sweet, musky, heady smell, and it flowed all around them. It was animalistic. It was raw. It was sublime, and an intoxicated smile took birth on her face as she rode him, her cunt weeping more and more of its juices. <br><br>His strong hand roamed over her body, and when it came into contact with her full breasts, she arched her back, as if offering them to him. She placed one of her hands on his and followed him in his exploration. The sensations building within her were delicate at first. But they gradually began to change, flowing in another realm. The realm of carnal abandon. She opened her thighs more and used more of her strength to propel herself up and down his massive cock.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 07:44:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Galla reaches the heights of her passion, a tread enters the room from the staircase leading up - one set of feet, sandalled and poised in their gait.&nbsp; But it is another figure, one whose entrance was soundless, who speaks to Galla in a familiar voice of duskwine.<br><br>"I was informed that you were having difficulty settling in."&nbsp; <br><br>There stands a woman, regal in aspect, her dusky skin so sheer as to seem oiled.&nbsp; Under a snug bodice and loin cloth of leopard skins, her lithe body is a weightless work of dark oil, sculpted into smooth muscles and generous curves.&nbsp; Every aspect of her has the elegance of the bowstring or the softness of ablution to it.&nbsp; She radiates a dark regality.&nbsp; She stares down at Galla and Dionysios with an expression seemingly washed clean of emotion by the wind of the desert that emanates its heat from her flesh.<br><br>Her eyes, trimmed in curlicues of kohl, draw their wet onyx over Galla, as Catulus stands beside her, looking as majestic as a man thoroughly out of sorts can.<br><br>"I was perhaps misinformed."<br><br>To Dionysios, and any other who sees her - no matter how coarse or jaded or presumptuous - she is royalty.&nbsp; Her massive breasts support a bow's sling, and chains of gold comprise her belt.&nbsp; Her features are cherubic, almost girlish, but with the airy quality particular to a bred princess.&nbsp; She stands in the manner that demands others to bow before her when she is in repose, to move aside when she moves.&nbsp; She is unmistakably, beguilingly dominant.<br><br>To Galla, she is unmistakably Myrine.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 14:41:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A quick and wrecking orgasm hits Galla, incomparable, perhaps to what she could have obtained, had she not been interrupted. Her breathing increased and finally, she yelled out her joy and her cunt clamped down around the satyr's cock, heated fluids gushing out. And then her world was turned upside down again. There was a voice. And a woman, from whom the voice came. Galla opens her eyes and wishes immediately that they would be pulled out. <br><br>"Sister!" She screams, over the moans of climax. "Myrine! How? Why?" She is still held upon Dionysios's firm cock, still moving up and down, her breasts swaying freely. Before her mentor. Splayed and fucked in front of her mentor. As reality hits her, she jumps off her lover's cock and lands on all fours. Her pussy is still releasing copious amounts of juice and she bends low, ashamed to her core. "Sister...I thought...I would never have imagined..."<br><br>But slowly, Myrine's words overcome her shock to see her sister alive. "You- you knew I was here?" Galla dared ask. "But...how?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 16:33:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dionysios grunted as she moved down along his cock, their hands joining to explore her body for the first time.&nbsp; As he felt her orgrasm hit, he groaned letting go of himself as well as he felt himself filling her with his seed.&nbsp; <br><br>As they came, moaning in the throes of orgasm, he realized that they had an audience.&nbsp; He opened his eyes a bit watching them as Galla rode him out, then scrambled off as she recognized their vistors.<br><br>Dionysios stood there, not at all ashamed.&nbsp; His gaze studied Galla's sister, they did not seem to disimiliar in body.&nbsp; He didn't say anything yet, just sat back letting the two seem him in all his glory.&nbsp; He too was curious as to how her sister had known she was here.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 17:56:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the satyr's hot juices flow together with hers down her thighs, Galla blushes and tries to cover her nudity. Her shame. She glances at Myrine, pain and betrayal in her eyes. "How is it that you survived, Myrine?" She crawled, not walked, crawled to the beautiful woman, and kneeled at her feet. Galla was naked, her body still throbbing with the pleasure of climax, a pungeant aroma of sex all around her. She looked up at her sister and tears came flowing from her eyes. "Have you come to take me from slavery? Does the army still stand? For I see you still do." <br><br>Galla did not forget about Dionysios, after all, he had brought her to climax. A fast, forced one, its potential glory interrupted by the visitors. By Myrine. Who should have been dead. Whose death had brought so much pain and suffering to her. Galla pulled herself to a standing position, copious amounts of sex fluids escaping her. The satyr had definitely filled her, but due to the sudden stop of their fucking, she was still unfulfilled. And angry. "Explain yourself, Myrine. Explain your survival and my captivity." She whispered through clenched teeth.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 18:14:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Myrine stands in silent observation, a sentinel of silken skin and teak wood muscles.&nbsp; As she listens to Galla, traces her crawl, and at last gazes down on her with inscrutable expression intact, Myrine keeps the girl fastened in the indigo jewellery of her eyes - a bondage as formidable, as palpable, as Galla has experienced today.<br><br>Her sandalled feet scrape wider as Galla rears up, and all notice the slight twitch of her nose when pungent fluid stretches, seeps and drops from the girl's body.&nbsp; The aroma of myrrh from her own body wafts through that deep odor, wending with it.&nbsp; She seems as calm as Galla is angry, and when she finally speaks, it is with a tone as smooth as a mirror.<br><br>"You will deliver yourself from slavery, Galla.&nbsp; Or from whatever bondage you struggle against."&nbsp; Myrine says lightly.&nbsp; Her fingernail dips to claim a tear from Galla's cheek.&nbsp; "As for what I am doing here, I am a friend of Master Catulus."<br><br>At mention of his name, Catulus nods.&nbsp; "Speaking of friends, I will gather the other."<br><br>With that, he hastens down the stairs to the library, to summon the rest of the Heroes.<br><br>Myrine, in Catulus' absence, talks on.&nbsp; "When I learned of your captivity, I arranged to have you brought here.&nbsp; I could not see you suffering and wasting away in unworthy slavery."<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 18:24:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Unworthy slavery?" Galla spits out, breaking the immense bond between their gazes. "What exactly is worthy in this slavery? I am not wanted here, I am considered a bed warmer, a whore! That is not what you have taught me, that is not what I have learned! I hate it! I would rather be dead!"<br><br>Galla did not cry, she could not cry in front of her mentor. But she returned her stare, doubling its intensity, multiplying its power endlessly. "You don't know what the idea of your death did to me. I- I gave up honour and dignity! I turned from the path on which you had guided me! Why, Myrine? Why did this happen? What part do I play in this?"<br><br>She hugged herself, taking in the rest of her words. "Friend to this man? Friend to these - these monsters? Why?" She suddenly felt horribly exposed and she did not want the others to see her that way. She turned around and desperately looked for coverings, but the rags she came in were torn beyond use. She sobbed then and looked at Myrine again, with large, pleading eyes. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 18:28:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dionysios watched them walking over to the bar and pouring himself a glass of wine from the jug.&nbsp; He watched it, noticing how upset Galla was getting.&nbsp; Not that he could blame her.&nbsp; <br><br>He watched them, not sure how he liked being called a monster.&nbsp; Not that he had never heard it before, there were always those who thought of him as a monster.&nbsp; All his kind did was unleash the passions that people foolishly locked away.&nbsp; People though never liked those who showed them their true selves and desires.&nbsp; <br><br>He did feel bad for Galla though.&nbsp; He reached behind the bar and taking out a cloak one of the bartenders had stowed back there, he set his glass down and walked over to Galla.&nbsp; He wrapped it around her then grabbed his glass, taking another sip of wine.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 18:33:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla gasped when she felt the satyr approach her and cover her with a warm cloak. She wrapped it around her and looked at him, tears sparkling in her eyes, a soft smile blooming on her lips. She also realized just how hurtful her remark must have been. But she had meant the Gorgon, and the others...not the one who offered her the first release from her strict, rigid beliefs. She turned to him and whispered: "Thank you, Dionysios. We - we shall talk again. I pray you forgive me..." She sobbed again and sat down on a chair at the bar, looking at Myrine with anger and a sense of lingering betrayal in her eyes. Her beauty seemed greater, more mature. Although not amplified by the thrill of war, Myrine was a goddess still. And a living reminder of how much Galla had loved her. As a mentor. As a sister. As more?<br><br>She turned and picked up the wine bottle and took a large sip. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 18:35:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dionysios nodded, arching an eyebrow at the rather large gulp Galla took.&nbsp; There was hope for this one yet.&nbsp; He sat back down, stretching out his hoof legs as he just enjoyed his own glass.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 18:55:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A curious lilt to her full lips the only visible sign of expression on Sibyl's countenance as she sits in elegant repose.&nbsp; Having her senses fully attuned to the activities of the two in the bar, the scent and sounds of their rut bring a most enjoyed distraction to her from the reading of the scrolls.&nbsp; An almost imperceptible waft of her own arousal flutters, scarcely detectable by any not within her immediate environs.<br><br>The entry of the others interrupting their heated and impulsive coupling, as well as the conversational aftermath bring a light titter of amusement from her.&nbsp; Hearing the light footfalls of Catulus as he approaches, she turns her attention fully to her companions.<br><br>"We have company."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 19:22:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He had, in response to Sibyl's earlier words simply repeated one of them, "use", and turned back then to his books. The utter lack of inflection made it hard to tell if that was comment or judgement at all.<br><br>He looked back up when the footfalls reached the edge of his own hearing.<br><br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 20:45:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><br>* LIBRARY * <br><br>Catulus enters, drawn and officious.&nbsp; He waves the Heroes upstairs, telling them, "Gather your findings and come with me. It is due time we assemble in full and discuss our mutual purpose."<br><br><br>* TAVERN *<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=25318.msg997634#msg997634">Quote from: wrathflame on 12-12-2008, 18:24:06</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Unworthy slavery?" Galla spits out, breaking the immense bond between their gazes. "What exactly is worthy in this slavery? I am not wanted here, I am considered a bed warmer, a whore! That is not what you have taught me, that is not what I have learned! I hate it! I would rather be dead!"<br><br>Galla did not cry, she could not cry in front of her mentor. But she returned her stare, doubling its intensity, multiplying its power endlessly. "You don't know what the idea of your death did to me. I- I gave up honour and dignity! I turned from the path on which you had guided me! Why, Myrine? Why did this happen? What part do I play in this?"<br><br>She hugged herself, taking in the rest of her words. "Friend to this man? Friend to these - these monsters? Why?" She suddenly felt horribly exposed and she did not want the others to see her that way. She turned around and desperately looked for coverings, but the rags she came in were torn beyond use. She sobbed then and looked at Myrine again, with large, pleading eyes. <br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Myrine seems taken aback.&nbsp; For a moment, her total composure flutters.&nbsp; She gathers herself, and dips a hand to stroke Galla's cheek.<br><br>"Did I teach you so wrongly?&nbsp; Did I not teach you?"&nbsp; Myrine sighs to her.&nbsp; "There is no abandonment of honor and dignity, even in chains.&nbsp; What is inside us guides us to find our masters worthy or unworthy.&nbsp; Servitude itself is no shame.&nbsp; Only poor service."<br><br>She rubs Galla's neck and gestures to the satyr.&nbsp; "Are you so lost, sister, that you condemn the service you exulted in moments ago?&nbsp; Did your body and spirit not thrill in the rightness of what you did?&nbsp; Were you not tended to?&nbsp; Did you not crave to tend in kind?"<br><br>Cupping Galla's face to grail her tears, Myrine concludes, "Do not be led astray and think that your pride knows better than your heart and your flesh.&nbsp; Follow your desires, Galla, free or servant, or you will find life to be a bitter cup."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 20:56:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He slides up to his feet, gathers the scrolls, and walks with the echo of metal on stone back to the main tavern. <br><br>Entering on Myrine's words, his expression actually does have a noticeable shift to it. From the glimmer in his eyes, though it only accompanies a slight lift of the corners of his lips, it might seem as though he found Myrine's words hilarious on some personal level.<br><br>Otherwise, he simply waits.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 21:16:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla simply nods once at the words of her sister and mentor and sits in a chair, drinking some more. She does indeed feel lost, but the words of her old friend do have a certain resonance within her. She drowns her sorrow, however, while looking at Dionysios, wandering about the truth in Myrine's words. She smiles softly to him and realizes she had been tended to, and that she indeed wanted to tend to his needs as well. She looks him over again and feels ever more heat gathering within her. Perhaps Myrine is right. Perhaps they are all right. But then she sees Argentum and her heart drops suddenly, feeling as metallic as the silver-man. She hides her eyes from him and a tear flows in the wine glass.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 23:30:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The conversation seemed to draw somewhat closer to what might be considered real planning.&nbsp; Her attention drifting to Sybil at the woman's rather wry commentary, though she heard nothing at all besides the sounds of her companions hissing menacingly in her ear. “Really?&nbsp; Well, at least that is taken care of..”&nbsp; Though she did not believe that anymore than she believed that all their enemies would fall without any snags..<br><br>The line of her thoughts was interrupted as their patron made his way into the library.&nbsp; Argentum gathering the scrolls from her hand and the table, and walking past her in his usual calm manner.&nbsp; The gorgon waiting until Sybil had followed in his wake before she would stand, slender fingers twitching the fabric back into place, letting it settle around those softly rounded hips.&nbsp; Taking a moment to gather herself before she would glide after the other two, entering the room to find someone she had nary seen before that moment, as well as the slave girl crying.<br><br>“Raging against her slavery, accepting it, picking fights with figures of legend, fucktoy, and now bemoaning her fate again?&nbsp; My dear slave girl should pick a mood and stick with it for more than two seconds..”&nbsp; Of course she had not managed to walk in quickly enough to catch any of the conversation, the slender monster coming to stand beside the man of silver, her body leaning lightly against his own, the slender serpents attacking his bicep without success.&nbsp; <br><br>“It seems though, that something of interest has happened.. We do have rudimentary plans for a mission, if anyone is more interested in that than this little..”&nbsp; Looking around for a moment at Myrine, Galla, and then everyone else. “Tragedy..”&nbsp; The arch of her brow, wondering what she missed, though not for very long.&nbsp; The life of one slave girl meaning little in the face of what they needed to do.. Plans to be made.. Brutes to slay..
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>12-12-2008, 23:57:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He very lightly flicks a finger in the direction of one of the snakes, though he strokes it in the gesture along one of the strands of hair that mingle through the scales and coils.<br><br>"She was ripped out of a life of freedom and forced into servitude. I do not think any of you would react well to that. That she is now a slave means her place is to serve, and that service is her only survival in this world. It does not mean in any of that, that she should be reacting happily to it or that there is an actual character flaw in not wanting to. She is wanted to serve, she serves or she will be broken and killed. Anyone wants her to be joyous about that... well. Perhaps that is more a commentary on them, than her."<br><br>He shakes his head.<br><br>"But you are right enough, there is no reason to keep in discourse on.." A brief look at Myrine. "Curious and bemusing perspectives."<br><br>"We have picked out the Numidian Brute as a good starting point to see each other's abilities in actual conflict while still serving our own purpose."<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>13-12-2008, 01:57:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Having gathered herself, she follows the steady footfalls of the men, allowing the gorgon her place in the rear.&nbsp; A soft steady step accompanied by the gentle swish of her skirts as she descends.<br><br>"Catulus, do you think it possible I could have someone shorten my skirts a bit.&nbsp; I do not relish having them tangle underfoot should the need arise for actual physical altercation.&nbsp; Quite embarrassing really.&nbsp; Not overmuch, but enough not to impede."<br><br>Sibyl's hushed interrogative purposefully pitched as to keep intrusion of the conversation in the tavern to a minimum.&nbsp; Entering with the others her step assured, her bearing elegant in its simple feminine grace as she makes her way to the bar. A willowy hand seeks her habitual cup's placement behind the carved wood, the wine bottle next to it as she draws it forth efficiently pouring for herself, returning the re-corked bottle before turning to face the assemblage.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>13-12-2008, 02:30:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Myrine listens to the banter with equanimity, with one exception.<br><br>When Argentum shoots her a brief look, speaking of, "Curious and bemusing perspectives," her eyes slash over to him.&nbsp; She looks accusatory and keen.<br><br>And Catulus, in turn, looks suspiciously at her. <br><br>A moment later, both of them are composed again - two more statues in a Grecian gallery, he the consummate elder statesman with rumpled toga and chiseled features, she the sleek barbarian, represented in the height of primal sensuality.&nbsp; As the Heroes talk, they listen.&nbsp; Their thoughts are as mysterious as any piece of marble.<br><br>Argentum mentions the Brute, and wins a ready nod from Catulus.&nbsp; The old hero's focus returns from whatever deep quarter of thought he had been staring at, coming instantly bright to Argentum's words.&nbsp; He is gathering his toga, advancing to put himself between Myrine and the Heroes, at the center of their assemblage, when Sybil asks about her skirts.<br><br>"Yes, certainly, Sibyl." Catulus responds, then bends half of his sober mouth down low.&nbsp; "This is assuming that Marissa makes herself available to repair it.&nbsp; But if not, I am sure Leo can be convinced to repair it for you.&nbsp; I hear that he is quite proficient in matters of fashion."<br><br>Then the scroll on the Brute fills his hand as he gathers it from Argentum.&nbsp; He unrolls it, but before his eyes can make more than the most passable scan of its surface, he lifts them from it.&nbsp; They rise with a brooding dim to their gray.&nbsp; His shoulders roll back, the majestic of his fine robes shifting on his firming frame, before speaking in a solid tone.&nbsp; <br><br>"Myrine.&nbsp; Do excuse us.&nbsp; You may avail yourself of our lodgings for the night."<br><br>Myrine is stalking for the downstairs passage before he is half done.&nbsp; The slink of her slides by the Heroes, whetting their senses with a hint of aromatic heat, as if myrrh and musk, sand and sun were infused in her body.<br><br>She crooks a finger for Galla to follow, then glides down the stairs.<br><br>After she departs, Catulus shakes his head as if to clear it of a dull pain.&nbsp; He dips his eyes to the scroll.&nbsp; But while his features do not rise again, and still bear the heavy marks of concern in their staid substance, his voice is warm and collegial again when he speaks.<br><br>"So, dear friends - how do you propose to locate and capture this bestial rogue?"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>13-12-2008, 03:57:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She has spoken without thinking once more, her cheeks pinkening as Argentum would vocally correct her misnomer.&nbsp; Even if she did not agree with his reasoning..&nbsp; Her tongue darting over her lips, made momentarily silent with the overt displeasure of his words.&nbsp; She would make a visible effort to regain herself, making no farther comment as Myrine would sweep from the room like a retreating goddess, all heady arrogance.&nbsp; Sthenae's gaze following her for a moment in consternation.&nbsp; Something was going on, and she obviously missed it.<br><br>“Well..”&nbsp; Clearing her throat and looking to throw herself into the business at hand to distract away from her less chivalrous notions.&nbsp; “The intel that we have clearly states that he is known to be a one man bandit of caravan goods..&nbsp; We propose to disguise ourselves as simple travelers moving a caravan past the Atlas Mountains into Carthage, and hope that he takes the bait..&nbsp; We will need.. Well.. Obviously goods of a quality to be enticing.. and Perhaps four or five mercenary men to fill out our ranks, to keep us from looking too.. suspiciously like a trap..&nbsp; So to speak..”&nbsp; Of course they had been rather industrious in the library.<br><br>“We trust that none of this will be a problem.. We.. I know you have put quite a bit into gathering us here and.. providing accommodations..”&nbsp; She would bow her head, trying for gracious, for all that it seemed to sit foreign upon her features.&nbsp; The girl slightly flustered as she would bow her head, playing lightly with the crimson snake that curled against her shoulder.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>13-12-2008, 04:47:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The only gaze that meets Myrine's in response has his usual calm back to it, the sweep of it that stares through her as though both she and her flash of anger hardly register to him. Or hardly mean anything.<br><br>When Sthenae speaks, he slides hand further along to put a gently reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, careful to keep his touch light over her soft skin.<br><br>"If needs be, put an actual caravan together in terms of goods to be sold on journey's end, but to me this seems the sort of expense an operation such as this should probably be ready for."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>13-12-2008, 05:51:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Really the only question at this point is how the personnel will be spread.&nbsp; Who will drive the wagons, who will handle the horses, etc.&nbsp; It seems fairly straightforward.&nbsp; Is there any chance anyone could get me something he has handled?&nbsp; I may have a chance of discerning more information concerning his habits."<br><br>Sibyl sips her wine appreciatively as she finishes her quiet discourse.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>13-12-2008, 08:10:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In return to the Heroes' musings, Catulus nods regularly.&nbsp; He looks at each directly as they speak in turn, weighing options on the firm scales of his eyes and smiling subtly in approval.&nbsp; <br><br>At last, he offers, "I can easily enough finance an expedition.&nbsp; All I would really require from you would be the nature of the disguises <em>each </em>of you would wear, and what additional manpower you would want.&nbsp; Then I could find some traders willing to complete the ruse."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Transgirlenstein</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 15:07:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dionysios shot the gorgon a look at her rather harsh words.&nbsp; He snorted into his cup a bit as he drained it, setting it down a bit louder then he actually needed to.<br><br>He gave Galla a soft glance as she left the room with her mentor then turned back to the planning session.&nbsp; "I can summon up a quiet convincing disguise for myself though my axe would need to be hidden somewhere nearby as it will nto change with me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 16:28:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The slight blush that had started with Argentum's disapproval only deepened when the Satyr made his own feelings known.&nbsp; Though she barely knew him, her chin lifting, those slitted eyes narrowing as she would straighten her back.&nbsp; “Would be easy enough to simply have some sort of gear hiding my.. friends..”&nbsp; That slight wave of slender hand towards her hair, her back straightening slightly, the slight roll of her shoulders as she would send an icy look towards her malcontent team mate.<br><br>The snakes that writhed around her face sensing her agitation, their hissing repartee growing more insistent, though the nearest person was Argentum, notoriously immune to their bite.&nbsp; “Other than..”&nbsp; Her hand waving slightly once more. “I could pass for human.. from afar..”&nbsp; That wry smile, her teeth flashing lightly, pointed fangs gleaming in the low light of the room.&nbsp; That slitted gaze flashing towards&nbsp; the others in the room, her head bowing slightly.&nbsp; Though Argentum had been working on helping her to correct her behavior, it was likely an uphill battle every step of the way..
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 20:00:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sipping her wine Sibyl gives a light rueful laugh, a bit of self deprecating amusement flowing easily from her.&nbsp; "I will leave the visual alterations to the rest of you.&nbsp; I would ask that I not be confined overmuch should it be decided I have need to disguise."<br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 20:42:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The touch of his hand lingering as Sthenae lowered her head once more and the agitation of her serpents heightened, settling his arm around her shoulders entirely as they did, an offer of his strength for her to lean back into, heedless of the angry little serpentine bites this was likely to earn him.<br><br>"Sthenae and I go poorly with disguises, given our natures. It will likely be for the best if we conceal ourselves within the wagons proper until the actual fight."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 21:20:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla is relieved see that her mentor asks her to accompany her, and she follows Myrine without looking at the rest of the Heroes. She only throws Dionysios a promising glance and runs after the Amazon. She has no interest in hearing what the Heroes discuss. She herself is not a Hero. She is...she doesn't even know what she is. Who she is. She is lost, both physically and mentally, but whatever answers are available to her definitely lie with Myrine. Besides, she hoped she could at least sleep with her sister and not on the floor somewhere in the cellar. <br><br>She caught up with her and she called out: "Myrine! Sister! Please, do not leave me!" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 22:48:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				* CATACOMBS * <br><br>Myrine saunters down the halls under the Cellar's tavern - great, gnarled tunnels that seep cold and crawl with torchlight over sagging brick.&nbsp; She slows to let Galla catch up.&nbsp; For a time, Galla follows the sway of her oiled rump, the swish of her leopard skin skirt, and soundless teak wood skin, rolling through the dim.<br><br>Then she turns into a side chamber.&nbsp; It is decorated with North African tapestries - great geometric works showing fearsome animals and warped gods - the floor covered with skins in a warm, perfumed mound.<br><br>Myrine slides atop it, holding Galla in her fierce gaze.&nbsp; She gathers a gold pitcher of watered wine and pours a single grail of it - the large bowl, covered with lions and Amazons, filling to its brink.<br><br>She lifts this to Galla, holding it directly before her capacious breasts, staring at her over the rim.<br><br>"I would never leave you, sister.&nbsp; That is why you are here with me."<br><br><br>* TAVERN * <br><br>Commotion is heard outside as the servants march up the path toward the entrance.&nbsp; A fierce debate over whether the tavern needs more tapestries is being shouted out between Leo, Marissa and Verona.&nbsp; The details go, mercifully, unheard for now.<br><br>Catulus considers Argentum's point after giving Sibyl's hand an affectionate brush.&nbsp; Then his eyes shift to Sthenae.<br><br>"Sthenae, dear - do you mind being carried on a litter like royalty?"&nbsp; He smiles subtly, then nods to Argentum. &nbsp;"I concur, sir - I believe you should be in the cargo, Sthenae in a covered litter.&nbsp; <br><br>"Any preference on type of imagined cargo, or manpower?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 22:54:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Galla remains at the door of the chamber, gazing in it, her lips parted, her mouth wide. It reminded her of Myrine, of the Amazons, of their many travels. It felt like home within that cold, unfamiliar place. She stepped inside and followed her sister to the large mound of skins. She kneeled before Myrine, laying her head on her knees, ignoring the great glass of wine. "Sister, how I have cried for you...you cannot imagine." She raised her eyes to Myrine, and they are filled with tears once again. "I am weak, Myrine, I have proved very weak. I have suffered along the way, but I managed to keep my dignity, my honour. Today I have lost both. And I have become a slave."<br><br>She weeps on her mentor's knees, her hand closing over Myrine's knee. "Myrine..." She whispers between sobs, "could we not run now? They would never know. We would be free. Far away..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 23:02:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				* CATACOMBS *<br><br>The Gorgon Queen sets the bowl aside.&nbsp; Then Myrine's fingertips drizzle, riding their nails and a silk crescent of flesh over Galla's haunch and scalp.&nbsp; Her knee is warm - a rock from the desert, washed smooth by the sea.&nbsp; Galla smells that desert, that sea, on Myrine, along with her musk.&nbsp; <br><br>As Myrine caresses Galla, stroking her to curl nearer on the generously textured furs, she inquires, "I know you have suffered.&nbsp; I have ... I try not even to remember the pain of what was lost, only the joy of when we had it.&nbsp; Our tribes.&nbsp; Our sisters.&nbsp; The cause."<br><br>Myrine exhales slightly. Not quite a sigh.&nbsp; Perhaps even a sound of pleasure. &nbsp;"You are not weak, though, Galla.&nbsp; You endured enough to break many women.&nbsp; Why do you consider yourself weak now?"<br><br>Then the bow of her mouth draws into a tight smile.&nbsp; "Tell me, and rest assured that lasting freedom is not far from hand."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>wrathflame</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 23:09:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Something triggered what Galla said next. It was perhaps the promise of lasting freedom, or the assurance that her sister had also suffered the great loss. Or maybe, somehow, Galla felt the scent that seemed to flow around her sister. The wonderful womanly perfume that seemed to seep from her skin, from her muscles, from somewhere higher, an area concealed by a piece of material. And Galla found herself inhaling the scent, keeping it in her lungs, thinking about its origin, and hungering for more. She climbed on the furs and lay her head in Myrine's lap, needing to be close to her. She closed her eyes and spoke:<br><br>"Myrine, I have been untouched. While I fought alongside you. While I was in slavery. I struggled to keep men off me. I swore that no man would touch me. Sister, I resisted and hoped I would not be as the women before me. Raped and enslaved to future rapists. And here, here, I succumbed to a satyr." She lifted her gaze and tears fell down her cheeks. "Do not be mistaken, I do not suffer because he was a satyr. I admit I was drawn to him, to his-" She paused, thinking, "to his natural form, to his passion, to his scent." Again, the scent had been important. The scent of sex. "Myrine, I wanted him to enter me. And I-" She paused, she was blushing and trembling now. She could not say it. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>14-12-2008, 23:21:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				* CATACOMBS * <br><br>Myrine slides her hand down Galla's flank.&nbsp; Strong and curved, it glides like a slice of scrimshaw down her bareness, from breast to rump.&nbsp; Galla is drawn under a blanket of her musk - an aroma like a hunting cat, citrus blossoms and myrrh.&nbsp; She caresses and listens, breaking her stroking only to dip down a finger and wipe Gala's tear.<br><br>"And what?" Myrine presses.&nbsp; Her voice is level - a mirror.&nbsp; The hands continue their warm breeze, smoothing Galla's body, stirring the smells on her.&nbsp; "Tell me, Galla.<br><br>"And then tell me what shame a warrior woman should bear, for taking her pleasure of a man when she wants it."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>15-12-2008, 05:46:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Just the asking of the question made her itch slightly, that heightened color to her cheeks. "Well.. I.. Why would a litter be going with a merchant caravan?"&nbsp; She tried to stay away from such situations, yet found it strangely appealing.&nbsp; Of course, it touched heavily upon What Shall Not Be Named.&nbsp; "Do you think he would be drawn to some sort of procession, a noblewoman and guard, perhaps loaded down with gifts for someone in Carthage.."&nbsp; She tingled slightly, her cheeks heated for reasons other than the overt disapproval of the men in the room.&nbsp; She didn't care.<br><br>Screw them anyway.<br><br>Yet she would pause a moment, feeling that arm curled around her shoulders, drifting into it, barely noticing the way those angered snakes would snap and latch onto metallic skin, only to turn on her heel.&nbsp; “I suppose If I am so distasteful you can all let me know how it proceeds.”&nbsp; Thrown over her shoulder as she would move through the room, bare shoulders thrown back, slender hands clasped lightly at her abdomen, trying her best to look every bit as regal as the amazon who had just left, though the effect was, perhaps, lessened by the hissing agitation of her companions.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>15-12-2008, 08:58:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He sighs, just softly and slightly.<br><br>"The cargo should be something appropriate to what is generally traded on that route, the manpower simply needs be professional enough that if they flee on sighting the brute, they at least do so.. let us say, with the professionalism of soldiers that preserve their lives with care, instead of a blind panic that will get in our way. Ex-legionaires thus, if possible. Summon me when all preparations are complete."<br><br>He walks out after Sthenae at that, catching up to her in the halls and placing a hand lightly to her arm.<br><br>"Having listened to an old man act somehow shocked and lecturing that a woman robbed of her freedom in war does not act as our shining ally, and a Satyr availing himself of the conflicted passions of an emotionally confused and traumatized young woman, yet seeming regarding it benificence and protection, I would ask you to consider that their judgements are not worth touching you so deeply. You are used as nothing more than a means of making themselves feel as 'good', by being able to point to you and disdain you for worse. The only thing I have put to you from my part is a request that as you consider why their perspectives then should not grieve you so, that the young woman will be damaged and degraded enough anyway not to need much help in the matter. That is not judgement, that is a request for consideration, and that is all."<br><br>He lifts his hand away at that, spreading both wide in a peaceable gesture before walking away towards the library.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>15-12-2008, 16:56:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bare feet barely making a sound against the floor, and yet she would fume silently, wishing she could truly -stomp- to show her displeasure.&nbsp; Like a spoilt child.&nbsp; Before she had made it even halfway to her room, passing by the library, Argentum would catch up to her, his fingers curling around her arm, stopping her forward movement.&nbsp; The Monster spinning on one bare heel to glare up at him, only to find that same calm lien of his face as always confronted her fury.&nbsp; <br><br>“I do nary care what they think!”&nbsp; her words heated and passionate.&nbsp; “I simply do not understand what all the bother is.. Catulus acting as though the girl were more important than the missions..&nbsp; The satyr snorted at me!&nbsp; He snorted!”&nbsp; Slowly winding down as she would follow him into the library.&nbsp; “He uses his nature upon the girl and its just.. the way things are.. I make a comment on the way things are and I am the bitch..”&nbsp; Flushing slightly, her comments had been less than nice, nor had they been necessary, except to needle the girl.<br><br>Pushing past that she would pace lightly across the library, the long fabric of her dress parting around those slender legs.&nbsp; A soft inward pull of her breath as she would fall onto the edge of the couch, slender fingers playing over the crimson snake that curled down her shoulder, nestling into the curve of breast.&nbsp; “She isn't worth all this worry, I think, and it is increasingly suspicious with the other woman who Catulus brought down.. I begin to think things are more than they seem.. And it does not bode well..”&nbsp; Her head resting back against the chair, her brows drawn in slightly as she would massage the snake's head.<br><br>“I may simply be too suspicious for my own good..”&nbsp; That wry smile, her shoulders drawing upwards. “I am not used to being.. Around.. so many people..”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>15-12-2008, 17:43:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"The girl is an easy way for some to feel both powerful, pleasured, and superior all at the same time, why should she not be a focus?"<br><br>He shakes his head, and then just listens to her quietly.<br><br>"And this is Rome. If everyone did not have their own agenda, if most of them did not have an entirely treacherous one, it would not be Rome. So chances are you are correct."<br><br>He moved to settle back beside her, though in truth he actually floated just imperceptibly where he sat back, unsure if the couch could support him. <br><br>"Mine, so that you know it upfront and we can thus set it aside, is that while the society itself is likely entirely worthless, and falls and fails of its lofty ideals, the people within it all the same have their moments of meaning, and of comfort, and of care for each other. Which considering the overall filth of even their own ignorance and flaws they mire themselves in, never fails to astound me each time I see it. Their children can still look to the world with wonder that almost nothing can. To me, they should have such small warmths as they can find them. Their earnest felt smiles and cries both. And so for that I bear... all this."<br><br>He pauses and frowns, strong arms sliding around her.<br><br>"Such agenda as I have with you Sthenae rises and falls only on that.. I look to you and see a part of you that exists in isolation from the world. I simply.. think that I know how that feels. I would only see you bear that better, with less hurt taken onto yourself for it. That is all."<br><br>Shimmering fingers find passage around her body to stroke softly along her back as he speaks, brushing gently over her smooth skin, kneading just lightly in lingering touches that have a hint of warmth drawn out through the otherwise chill of his silvered form.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>15-12-2008, 19:27:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A slow breath seemed to melt from her, her eyes sliding closed.&nbsp; He would shift closer, his arm curling around slender shoulders, bearing the brunt of her 'hair's' vicious attack upon him, the snakes hissing maddened by his nearness, as well as frustrated with the fact that their puny fangs seemed not to phase him.&nbsp; Her eyes not even opening as she would curl against his side, slender hands coming to rest against his chest, her face nestled into the curve of his shoulder.&nbsp; Seeming not to notice the chill of his touch, not used to any touch..<br><br>Her eyes staring past him slightly, her lips forming a soft moue as he would speak, slender fingers softly stroking over his shirt, even as his own fingers would caress down the slender curve of her back.&nbsp; “You think I do nary carry my misfortune well?”&nbsp; She would ask finally, those roiling snakes against his cheek, some snapping at his neck, annoying things.&nbsp; “I am not hurt.. I am angry!”&nbsp; Her words a little stronger, her nose crinkling as she would draw a little breath.&nbsp; “Oh, perhaps not.. I did not think it would be this hard.. Having to.. Make nice.. for people.. I am not used to it.&nbsp; Perhaps I should simply stay in my room and let others make the choices, they can inform me when it is time..”&nbsp; Defeated little sigh as she would bury her face against his chest. <br><br>“You would still visit me, would you not?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>15-12-2008, 19:43:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He stops the motion of his hands for a moment to hold her body more closely to his own, quieted in feeling her soft warmth pressed into him, even squeezing her slightly in gesture of support and reassurance, and in offering to her a heightened sharing of the contact between them.<br><br>His hands begin to move again after a while, caresses circling over her back, kneading up to her shoulders, fingers spreading to rub over the curves of her body, tracing them in slowed passes back and forth.<br><br>"It would be unfortunate for us all if you did. You have a keen intellect, and our current plans are as much yours as anyone else's. It will just take you some time perhaps to see others as not being worth the effort of your spite. Everyone is irksome in their own way to someone else. Even me. Especially me. It is just the way of the world. You find the better things in them to focus on, or the worse things in them to truly hate, or you realize that if all they can give you are the smaller annoyances and rages, they are not worth regarding beyond what they can be used for to further your own purposes. And if not even that, are not worth regarding at all. Thought is a very precious thing says the sort of man who used to be lifeless silver. It is better to spend the currency of it on anything truly of note. Once you can, there is much in the world that rewards you for being able to look to it fully, with eyes unclouded by distraction."<br><br>Another soft squeeze of her body. He hrmphs faintly as the snakes flail away, then taken for a moment by bemused impulse, leaning his head to full on kiss the most aggressive of them, just to see how they react, holding back a quiet laugh.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>15-12-2008, 22:39:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Looking towards Catulus, Sibyl gives a soft smile at his touch.&nbsp; Unshared images flooding her mind of his thoughts, his recent activities.<br><br>"Think you then to be able to bring these disparate personalities to bare on a single task?&nbsp; It is a formidable chore you have taken upon yourself.&nbsp; Every individual with their own desires, phobias and petty annoyances.&nbsp; I think dear Catulus that you will need all your skills come to fruit to meld this group, most being quite high strung and passionate.&nbsp; While their passion will bring energy and intelligence to the project, that lack of emotional control will be dangerous for all concerned.&nbsp; Just this once I do not envy you your sight."&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>15-12-2008, 23:17:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Catulus hooks a wry smile.&nbsp; He straightens his back as though dislodging a kink in it, observing Sthenae and Argentum's departure from the corner of a keen, wet eye.&nbsp; Sibyl feels the warmth of his hand cradle hers; his custom when speaking with her closely.&nbsp; It feels like a grail of sandstone, the kind of place one might keep a precious gem, a sliver of sacred incense, a lock of hair.<br><br>"If anything, this demonstrates that you will be able to resolve conflicts in a positive way." &nbsp;His brow drops in deference to the sobriety of his thoughts, though his tone remains cordial, almost light. &nbsp;"Seeing how we all have interacted with Galla was a fine example of the many perspectives on how to take care of a potential threat is concerned.&nbsp; Argentum, with his placid philosophies.&nbsp; Dionysios with his rather more ... primal approach.&nbsp; Galla was a storm, and I feel the Heroes weathered her distress well.<br><br>"I have never been more assured that you are up to the task, or resolute at a team." &nbsp;Catulus seals his statement with a nod's stamp and a steel stare.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>16-12-2008, 22:05:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A soft pull of her breath as his arm would tighten around her, fitting her snugly against his side.&nbsp; An odd feeling, somewhere vaguely between being uncomfortably close, and not close enough.&nbsp; His hand caressing over the soft curve of her back.&nbsp; A little shiver running through her as she would relax herself.&nbsp; &nbsp;She barely even listened to his actual words, merely letting the flow of them fall over her, the even rhythms, until even the&nbsp; writhing snakes had begun to still, falling against her head as if they were inanimate.<br><br>The soft close of her eyes, hiding those strangely slitted pupils, until looking down he might think he held a fragile human girl against his chest, rather than something foreign, and strange.&nbsp; “I do know from where you come, Argentum.. But this is not a matter of -knowing-.. I know many things.&nbsp; Have seen many things.. Have lived through loss and devastation..&nbsp; And yet my emotions rule my mind more thoroughly than my intellect ever has.”&nbsp; The soft draw of her breath, pressing her face into him for a moment.&nbsp; <br><br>“It is easy enough to say that they are not worth my spite, but how am I to squash an impulse that is based so completely outside of the realm of my reason?”&nbsp; A little shiver running through her frame as she would curl her fingers against his hard chest, slowly stroking the fabric of his tunic against the hard lines of the body beneath.&nbsp; “Who is to say that the wash of anger is not therapeutic, my friend?&nbsp; Did I not do well in not attacking them?&nbsp; Am I not merciful?”&nbsp; Was she teasing now?&nbsp; That impish smile as she would look up at him, those wide eyes, golden and strange, meeting his own fixed gaze, the serpents upon her head flaring to life as his lips would draw near, though they avoided him, likely to keep from chipping teeth..
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>16-12-2008, 22:52:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He looked briefly satisfied at the snakes backing off and mentally filed that away for later the next time they swarmed him. He resisted any impulse to follow it up by hrmphing triumphantly at them.<br><br>And then he just half closed his eyes and focused on the soft warmth moving against him, listening to her without reply for a while, the feel of the trembling to her body, hands sliding further, finding passage past her clothes to stroke along the sides of her body, somehow both warm and cool in his touch as his fingertips glided all the way down to her hips, lingering there as his hands pulled her closer.<br><br>He met her gaze as evenly as he always did, though he smiled in response to hers with a gentle affection.<br><br>"Truly a divine generosity Sthenae."<br><br>His tone as close to teasing in reply as it ever tended to come.<br><br>"But when it only draws you into further conflict with them, I think the benefits of such therapies are quickly countered."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>16-12-2008, 23:11:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A soft little gasp as his fingers would curl under the soft linen, finding the pale flesh beneath.&nbsp; Following the line of her side, the soft slope of her ribs, the slender waist, and then the flare of delicate hips.&nbsp; His touch both soothing, and exciting, until she was pressing herself against him, her face nestled into his side, her hands curling into his shirt, slender fingers playing with the stays of his tunic, until the first one would fall open, leaving more of that chest free.&nbsp; "Divine.."&nbsp; Echoing his words without ever truly hearing them, wetting her lips slowly as she would glance up at him with those unfathomable eyes.&nbsp; <br><br>"Then what would you suggest, Argentum? What.. release..?"&nbsp; The second stay falling open, revealing the silver disc of his nipple, the play of light off metallic skin.&nbsp; The slender girl leaning in, drawing her tongue across his smooth flesh.&nbsp; "Perhaps.. Some other form of therapy?"&nbsp; That teasing little smile as she would tilt her head.&nbsp; Those wicked fangs visible for a moment before her lips would close over them once more.&nbsp; <br><br>The man of silver would find himself soon with his shirt utterly open, her busy little fingers tracing over his chest, his abdomen, tracing the lines of muscle beneath the metallic skin.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>16-12-2008, 23:29:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				An entirely needless intake of breath when her tongue tasted over his silvery skin, another promise of warmth drawn out, seeming to flush just beneath cold metal, almost as a goad. His nipple stiffened in the wet trail of her parted lips, a slight arch of his chest towards her mouth and her then roaming touch. <br><br>"You are apparently far less subtle than you are divinely generous."<br><br>A smile of his own, then kissing to her cheek, lips soft as they brushed over her pale, smooth skin, small kisses placed all along to the corner of her teasing smile, before reaching her lips and kissing fully, deeply, parting his own to suckle at her lower lip, his tongue sliding over it and teeth gently grazing before he pulled back.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>16-12-2008, 23:50:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A low laugh as she would tease and taste him, her lips drawn against his own, softly feeling him grasp the soft flesh with his teeth, her body near quivering against his own at the action.&nbsp; “Have you known me to be.. subtle?&nbsp; My dear Argentum?”&nbsp; That wicked gleam of teeth once more as she would grasp the gold woven tie that circled her ribs, gathering that clothe in just under her breasts, a flick of her wrist undoing the intricate little knot, letting it fall onto the seat next to her.&nbsp; The loosely draped linen coming free, falling around her slender limbs like a curtain, and then parting.&nbsp; <br><br>Full, rounded breasts pressed against his chest as she would straddle his lap, her lips near feverish against his neck and jaw.&nbsp; The snakes hissing warningly at him, though none tried to attack the silver male.&nbsp; Little bare feet balanced against the edge of the couch, her toes digging into it as she would look up at him, blinking softly.&nbsp; “Mm, and I am even less divine than I be subtle..”&nbsp; nipping at him, ever careful to keep those fangs from touching even his skin, lest she test his ability to fight off her special strain of venom.&nbsp; <br><br>Drawing back she would look up at him, those golden eyes gleaming in the candlelight of the library.&nbsp; “Of course, ye could help me to reach such heights..”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kolbrandr</strong> on <strong>17-12-2008, 00:05:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She steals a quiet moan from still gently parted lips, hands sliding up to the small of her back to press her closer into him, squeezing her body to his more tightly just for the feel of her full breasts against the smooth silver muscles of bare chest, his nipples stiffened fully and dragging over her flesh as he lifts her up against him.<br><br>A shiver under the tiny, almost delicate seeming bites of her fangs, looking down to her after she pulls away.<br><br>"I am nothing if not obliging of you, I think."<br><br>Leaning down to kiss her again, deeper still, fiercer still, a rising flush of passion in the kiss, his lips guiding hers apart, his tongue sliding past to explore the warmth of her mouth, pressing into a small fang, sliding to coil and circle over her own tongue, rubbing back and forth in a drawn out, even languid rhythm. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>17-12-2008, 22:58:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Listening quietly, her tranquil countenance turned to his stern gaze, the contact with Catulus his hand holding her smaller one in his, brings images to her mind.&nbsp; The petal soft of her skin contrasting well with the rock of his.&nbsp; His feelings and desires flowing through the contact, willingly does she receive them as they combine to form a visual image within her of the activities of her comrades, his view of them an interesting perspective.&nbsp; <br><br>"I do hope you are right.&nbsp; You do seem clear in your vision.&nbsp; In the interim, as we wait till the others have resolved their personal demons, is there not something I can do for you?&nbsp; This may take some time."&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VandalSavage</strong> on <strong>17-12-2008, 23:27:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Catulus' hand shifts in holding Sibyl's, taking more of her soft hand in the basin of his own.&nbsp; Granite fingers skirt the canals of her wrist, stirring over the nerves that grow like grass along the veins and bone.&nbsp; <br><br>The other servants are entering, and their conversation quickly subdues under the solid silence of the Tavern.&nbsp; They begin to unpack groceries, letting the hush gather in the warm space of the cellar.<br><br>Catulus speaks in a low voice, his tenor decanting into Sibyl's keen senses.&nbsp; "Do for me?&nbsp; What do you have in mind?"<br><br>He steps closer.&nbsp; Hard and subtle scents spread their landscape for Sibyl to discover.&nbsp; Hard and subtle touches gather her hand.&nbsp; The old warrior listens, like a sentinel statue absorbing the private litany of a priestess.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aestas</strong> on <strong>18-12-2008, 04:08:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her heartbeat seemed to be thundering within the delicate vessel of her chest, her fingers curling over the hard lines of his shoulders, drawing behind his neck, caressing the bared flesh there.&nbsp; The coolness of metal, slowly warming to her touch, even as she would lean up to press her lips to his more fervently.&nbsp; The delicate tip of her tongue tracing the opening of his mouth, drawing inside, inviting him to plunder the depths of her.&nbsp; The soft roll of her hips as she would shift, letting the linen fall completely from her form.<br><br>The slender frame was not one of a warrior.&nbsp; The skin was soft, seemingly fragile.&nbsp; The press of his fingers leaving blushing red prints that slowly faded back to the sweet pink.&nbsp; Her shapely legs straddling his hips, the slow tilt of her body against him, rubbing her most sensitive flesh against the rough surface of his trousers.&nbsp; “I wonder, Argentum, for one who always seems to stay so maddeningly calm.. Just how hard you can get?”&nbsp; Her voice like a soft lilting hiss against his lips, those golden eyes darting up to meet his own, her breath sweet against his lips. <br><br>Her nails digging lightly into his back, her arms tightening as she would look up at him. “I want you to take me..”&nbsp; That flush heightening at the brazen words, even as they would leave those delicate lips.&nbsp; “I want to feel your hard shaft penetrating me.. Want to feel you move inside me.. Want to..” What?&nbsp; Everything?&nbsp; Nothing?&nbsp; A little shiver running through her as she would roll her hips outwards, her movements serpentine, sensuous, one tiny hand drawing down his chest to find the stays between her thighs.. to Unite flesh with flesh..&nbsp; Need with need..
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: {EX} {Heroes Antica} *The Cellar of Mysteries* *I.C.*</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vella</strong> on <strong>18-12-2008, 06:15:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The delicate bones of her wrist covered in supple flesh receive his touch, the blood coursing through her veins send a light timpani against the solid weight of his fingers.&nbsp; A light curious tilt of her head, an elegant arch akin to the proud stance of spirited stallion brings her to lean forward as he steps in, closing the distance between them.&nbsp; &nbsp;A gentle lift of her face brings his scent to her as surely as a sighted person's eyes shares information.<br><br>"I know your thoughts, your desires, your needs but I would have you voice them.&nbsp; It would be unseemly for me to act upon what is held in the privacy of a person's thoughts.&nbsp; But you are aware of my 'sight'.&nbsp; You know my gift and how I use it, yet you allow me that contact.&nbsp; I have always wondered at that."<br><br>Pausing a moment she gives a light furrow of her brow as the weight of her words settles around her.&nbsp; "I would offer whatever service as priestess...&nbsp; or...other 'comforts' you might desire.&nbsp; We go to battle soon.&nbsp; I would not see you, or myself, go without some unfettering of needs, some reminder why it is we go to destroy the beasts who pray upon the innocent."<br><br>A casual turn of her head and a minute flaring of her nostril as she scents the air between them.&nbsp; Impossible to see from any distance, though Catulus could well determine the action, understanding its needfulness in her gathering of information from him.&nbsp; The way in which a snake scents heat Sibyl brings the information to her to learn, to see and understand.&nbsp; Breath slowing as she brings it to her, holding the scent deep within her, savoring before releasing it, equally protracted.&nbsp; Her visage a quiet, calm pool though the pulse beneath the press of granite fingers strengthens, the span between beats lessening.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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