The Sacrifice (impishcharm & marauder13)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: impishcharm on 20-08-2014, 08:20:15</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>20-08-2014, 08:20:15</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>He was her wolf...<br></em></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>...and she was his moon.</em></span></span></div><hr><br><div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/de/04/aa/de04aafbc1a60f874eae8442c11fe2e1.jpg)</div>The sea’s vast horizon welcomed the sun so the night could rule yet again. The people of Troadon brought the last of their chores to a close while witnessing the graceful departure of the last rays in all of their vibrant glory. It was truly a sight for the inhabitants in the temple of Mytar, the Night God, for they were able to witness everything from the heights above, which started at the small kingdom directly below to the ocean extending beyond. It was said that the location to build the sacred place had been chosen after many moons of meticulous calculation and discussions and finally the temple had been carved straight out of the rock of one of the great peaks, appropriately named Mytar’s Crag, which towered over Troadon. The people only had to lift their gaze to the line of mountains that served as a wall to any potential enemies and see the steps that led up toward a set of two massive stone pillars. One was a wolf and the other an owl, both carefully chiseled into perfection. Religious lore said that Mytar often took the form of either creature, with the owl epitomizing wisdom and the wolf bringing with it a totality of community. <br><br>The moon was expected to appear full and bright that night and it was customary for those dedicated to worship to pay tribute. Over the years the clergy of Mytar’s temple had grown complacent and even the people of Troadon took for granted the prolonged period of peace. Lands across the sea were too far away to pose a threat and it would take a determined army to get over the mountains, let alone survive along the way. Troadon was safe and it was this mentality that allowed the ministry to become less inclined to participate in ceremonies from the old ways. It seemed Mytar's divine intervention was not needed when they experienced peace and perhaps not at all.<br><br>Sybil, on the other hand, took her position quite seriously; as one of the resident priestesses, it was what she was born for. When she wasn’t visiting the villages to assist the sickly and dying by applying her skilled hand at healing and knowledge of various herbal remedies, she was performing whatever tasks the Elders asked of her. She had left her time as a novice after ascending from her adolescent years, but she held no rank of power among them, thus it was her duty to obey. <br><br>The day had been repressively long in the nearest village of Spirles which happened to be the capitol and home of the king; however, there wasn’t a single ache in her body that a hot soak wouldn’t cure. It was only after her skin had been scrubbed clean of its labor and her long silken hair left loose to dry that she made her way to the center of the temple to light a brazier in Mytar’s name. The wooden door to the ceremonial room creaked open and she was pleasantly surprised to find her close friend and brother in spirit, Malkin, had already taken the task upon himself. <em>It seemed not everyone had outgrown tradition.</em> She quietly entered the room that was being filled with exotic scents from the embers, slender fingers lingering on the edge of the door to guide it closed behind her before making her way to his side. Her petite silhouette donned fresh robes that were the color of the night sky – inky black and soft. The material flowed down her arms until her hands were nearly hidden within the sleeves. It was cinched closed at her small waist by a black ribbon and the rest was left to pour down her legs and billow at her bare feet with each step. <br><br>Malkin was kneeling before the brazier and offered no words as he watched her approach, just simply drank her in as she joined him. There were times when she knew he thought the world was cruel for planting her in his life and not allowing him to indulge in the desires of the flesh, but it was not meant to be and so they lingered there in silence as the hours passed by…<br><br>A firm hand seized her shoulder, digits digging into her flesh as they prepared to give a violent jerk that cruelly snapped her out of her slumber. “What, I…,” she mumbled incoherently as she peeled her eyes open to see the blurry visage of her companion looming over her, his eyes harboring dark thoughts. “What’s wrong?” She suddenly sat up from her haphazard position on the floor so her hands could wipe the haze from her eyes. <br><br>“We’re under attack! I’m unsure of their origin, but they have taken Master Reimy and hold him between the pillars so King Arlan will relent to their demands.” He stood up and started to walk toward the door, leaving her to struggle with his words that stumbled in his haste. “I need you to stay here while I go out and retrieve the others and bring them back before the soldiers find them first. Make sure you barricade the doors until I've returned,” he shot her a look of warning to do as she was instructed, before slipping out of the room with the door shutting with a click of finality. <br><br>Malkin never allowed her a chance to beg him to let her join him in the task, as two were better than one and they would be able to gather their brethren twice as swiftly. The fire had been kept alive during the night, though it provided her with little light. He had left her with nothing to do but let her inner turmoil shred her from the inside out. She had to do something, she couldn't just... <br><br><em>A scream.</em><br><br>It was faint, but it was still shrill to her ears and she knew it was pulled from one of her sisters somewhere within the stone walls. Their stronghold would become their tomb if someone didn't come to their aid quickly.<br><br>Instinct took over and she turned to the only one she knew who could save them. "Mytar, my Lord of Night, please show those dedicated to you your mercy. Give us the strength to conquer our enemies, I beg you," she gave a pause as another scream interrupted her, closer this time and accompanied with a masculine response of victory. A seed of fear was planted in her heart and it quickly bloomed, freezing her on the spot. She needed to move toward the door, to help her people. "I'll do anything that is required, you have but to ask. Please... I am yours to command...," her voice trailed off as she was filled with purpose. The others needed her and so she was on her feet and approaching the door with steady strides, hands lingering on the iron handle once it was within reach, fisting around it as a decision solidified in her mind.</div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>21-08-2014, 01:51:27</strong>
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				The main room of the temple darkened, filled with the deep mauve of the air lit by the moon's silvered light. The incense and smoke laden air wafted away to be filled with the crisp aroma of the forest floor, and the woods that made the forest the expanse it was. The room was filled with the same noise of the forest at night; the faint rustle of leaves that hide most of the creatures that scampered in the coolness of the night to find food, and avoid the predators of the darkness.<br><br>Fluttering wings blossomed from the quiet, becoming the the only sound within. The wings beat faster, and faster until there was silence.<br><br>Faithful child, you called our Master, and He found your heart worthy. You seek His aid in saving the people. They have turned their faces from Him, unlike you and one of your brothers. Those who retain their faith shall be protected, as will the place where He has blessed. But, Faithful Child, such aid, even for the faithful, will not be given freely. A sacrifice must be given, freely and without hesitation. Faithful Child, will you supply the sacrifice to honour Him, and the defender to come?<br><br>Sybil remained still, and silent for a long moment. "Yes, I will supply the sacrifice."<br><br>Faithful Child, He accepts the sacrifice to be given. One blessed by His hand is coming to aid the people in restoring their faith, and defending their lands.<br><br>Wings burst into life, once more filling the air with the beats that lifted the body into the air. The beating wings faded into the background of the night life of the forest, which in turn faded from her ears, taking with it the scents of the forest as well. Within the space of five heartbeats, the main place of worship smelled of brazier smoke, incense and fear.<br><br><div align="center">~||~</div><br>Mengar stretched as he stood up from the length of trunk that several of them men used as a seat. There were a few popping noises as muscles lengthened rather than remained knotted up after the day's work. Like many of the other men, Mengar was a muscular man. His chest, shoulders and arms were solid slabs of muscle gained from hours of swinging an axe; either the larger lumber axe, or the smaller hand axe that was used to clean up the branches and other small jobs needed to be done. He had eaten his fill of the camp's stew, and drained his tankard of what they called ale, and his body told him of the need to sleep. Unlike his companions, he listened and heeded the wisdom of his body.<br><br>Mengar waved to those closest to him, and walked to the rudimentary tent that was his home for the two cycles of the moon he would be working in the forest. He shed his boots, and climbed under the canvas that served to keep the worst of the rain from him. He laid himself flat, shuffling a little to move the leaf litter about beneath his bedroll, then closed his eyes.<br><br>The pain exploded in his belly as if he had been punched. Mengar doubled up, rolling onto his side as well. He took a few gasping breaths only to have his head threaten to burst. His scream of pain brought men running from all directions. Mengar crawled out of his sleeping place, rolling and thrashing on the ground in clearly recognizable agony. Men watched in fear as Mengar's arms and legs bulged and rippled unnaturally. His eyes snapped open, not seeing anything, simply staring off into the vast distance. The next cry was deeper, primal and terrifying. Men subconsciously took steps backward from their stricken companion. Mengar's shirt ripped at the seams as his already barrel like chest seemed to increase in size. He rolled to all fours, panting in desperation, panic imprinted so hard on his face that it would surprise no one if it became permanent. He glanced about, the question in his eyes that none could answer. New waves of rippling flesh and excruciating pain washed over Mengar. He leapt to his feet, clutched a nearby young tree to steady himself. Violent tremors touched his entire body as he lifted his head, loudly sniffing the air. With an animal like snarl, Mengar rushed into the forest, scattering everyone and everything in his path.<br><br><div align="center">~||~</div><br>Mahkra Lucras of the Severassi brought his group of soldiers to a stop, quickly assessing his objectives as given by the Leader of the warband. Of the ten who he commanded, one had died at the hands of a local armed with a club and cleaver. The local died soon after, but it proved to be a valuable lesson to the soldiers. The civilians were capable of fighting back, though most showed the good sense to cower when confronted by trained men. Several men had been killed in response, the survivors being told that more would die if they fought back.<br><br>"We hold here."<br><br>His men spread out, holding the ground near the pillars of their heathen God. Lucras heard the sounds of increased fighting, along with swearing and cursing in their native tongue. Lucras furrowed his brow, but ignored it. There were many men between him and the source of the disturbance for it to be a concern. Yet the sounds didn;t fade, and if anything, grew closer and closer to the base of the stairs.<br><br>Lucras looked down, not believing what he saw. Some mottled gray figure was scaling the cliff face the same way a man walked over even ground. At it got closer, he saw it was bigger than a man, and not shaped like a man. Hanging form the body were two spears which seemed to do nothing to it at all; no distraction to its movement, nor did they seem to cause it any pain. A deep pain started to form in his belly as the thing got closer, and he could make out the features more.<br><br>"Move back. Make ready." Fear shook his voice, his men hearing it and taking it aboard as well. Every an readied their swords and shields, nerves getting worse with each passing second. The roar shattered the air, driving off every other sound from the ears of the Severassi. The shimmering ghost like figure leapt through the air and landed in a crouch before the soldiers. Thick, coarse hair covered the body with every shade of grey imaginable. The long, powerful snout was dripping red with blood and worse, while yellow eyes gazed balefully at those who stood before it. The arms were huge, and ended with a massive hand, the digits tipped with cruel, menacing talons that where in a similar state as the snout.<br><br>It reared onto its hind legs, spread its arms wide, and bellowed a challenge to those that stood before it. As one, the Severassi rushed the beast from all sides. It dove to one side, swinging one of the massive paws which crushed the man at the end of the line. But the arm kept moving, only lightly burdened by the weight it had picked up, smashing into two more of the soldiers before the rest out stepped the swing. Two men rushed in to strike at the side that had been opened to them, but the other arm lashed out, send both men back toward the edge of the outer courtyard, and onto the their death plunge.<br><br>The remaining men withdrew, closing on the door that led to the temple proper, while the beast moved to block their access to the stairs. The wolven ears rotated slightly, while the yellow eyes attempted to bore through the men who were all muttering prayers to their own gods for a miracle. One last bellowing roar trumpeted their deaths as the fur covered death charged them, leaving nothing but a wide area covered in their blood and body parts.<br><br>"<strong>Where is Caller? Where is Child of Faith?</strong>"
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>21-08-2014, 04:47:21</strong>
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				<em>I will supply the sacrifice…</em><br><br>The words still lingered in the forefront of her mind, becoming imbedded in her memory and permanent in her heart. She had the distinct feeling that she would need to call upon those words as a reminder of what had just taken place; after all, she had been warned that Mytar’s mercy would not come without a price. It was a burden she would carry for her brethren. That, to her, was perfect love. The wild scent of the forest that had only just begun to envelop her was taken away with the frantic beats of the owl’s wings. The mysterious animal had come and gone so swiftly that she almost wondered if the entire exchange was based on a creation of her own mind.&nbsp; <br><br>But it wasn’t, she knew it. There was warmth spreading in her chest that was sparked by the simple knowledge that her people would be saved one way or another. <br><br>Sybil looked over her shoulder toward the brazier that cast a faint glow around it, eyes descending to a gilt tray on the stone floor before it that held both sacred herbs and coals just ready to feed the fire. Along with the supplies necessary for a proper vigil laid a dagger used for tamer practices than one would originally assume at first glance. She left her place at the door to retrieve the blade, holding it up so she could better study it in the soft illumination. Light glinted off the wicked steel, revealing the keen edge that would carve through her enemies when applied with agility and finesse. <br><br>Another shriek echoed loud enough to penetrate through the heavy door, telling her that just on the other side was an innocent in distress. There wasn’t time for a second thought or a moment of hesitation as she gripped the iron handle and pulled with her weight until it swung open with a loud groan. <br><br>What she saw could only be described as chaos.<br><br>To her left, a foreign soldier had a thick arm that protruded under heavy armor wrapped around the waist of one of her sisters, his own blade held against the fluttering pulse at her neck. Two older priests were in the process of backing the man into a corner, the gleaming tips of their own swords pointed in his direction. To her right, steel crashed against steel as another priest was fighting off another invader, though the struggle was not looking well in his favor. She wanted to go to him and offer her assistance, but straight ahead one of her sisters was being chased by a grizzly stranger hell-bent on spilling innocent blood. The desire to protect clouded her judgment and the otherwise serene countenance shifted to a look of unadulterated rage. <br><br>With all the power of her conviction and strengthened faith, she charged. One hand bunched in the material of her robes and lifted it up so the hem wouldn’t trip her, the other tightened around the handle of her borrowed dagger which was poised to sink into flesh not covered by protective leather. There was no other purpose assigned to her in that moment than to protect the ones she loved and destroy those who would see them harmed. She dodged and averted those around her with a careful grace and she was so close to her target that she could almost feel the dagger penetrating…<br><br>Until she ran into a wall – or, more adequately, a wall ran into her, one forged of hard flesh and bone. Her lungs were immediately deprived of air as she landed upon the hard stone, the dagger clattering to the floor and sliding across to disappear somewhere within the disorder.&nbsp; Her chest burned as she tried to learn how to breathe again, all while looking up at the angel of death who held up an ax directly above her. With a grin befitting a creature whose thirst for carnage was never appeased, he started to bring down the weapon in a steady trajectory towards her neck. Only it wasn’t soft flesh that it struck, but stone as she threw herself out of its insidious path. The warrior barely had time to draw in a breath to howl his rage when an iron sconce came crashing down upon the crown of his head. <br><br>Malkin tossed the makeshift weapon aside after the man landed in a pile next to her, seized her wrist and hauled her up against his body to inspect her for injuries. “What did I tell you?! You weren’t supposed to lea—“ his scalding words were suddenly cut off by a roar that was unlike any they had ever heard. It summoned an intrinsic reaction in every beating heart within the vestibule; something deeper than fear. <em>Panic. </em><br><br>The doors to the temple were open so all could witness Master Reimy’s execution, or that had been the plan. The soldiers that had held the High Priest were busy being slaughtered by a creature whose swift movements spelled death for the invaders and the old man shrank away in fear. Inside, some continued to fight in a final attempt to salvage their failed siege while others ran out to help defend their comrades to the death. With the massacre outside of the temple complete, the beast brought its fury within to finish off the remaining soldiers with sharp claws that parted flesh from bone with a single ferocious swipe. All who remained standing were disciples of Mytar and they shrank away from the beast that dripped with the blood of their enemy. <br><br>A command was given by a voice that was never meant to speak in their tongue, or so it seemed. Small fingers dug into Malkin’s arms as she turned from the object of nightmares to her brother, then turned to step toward the beast. Realizing what she intended, his hold tightened on her petite form to prevent her from approaching the one responsible for so much bloodshed. She twisted in his grasp and slipped from him so she could face their savior. <br><br>“I am here. I am the one who called,” her voice shook as it bounced off the walls. <em>Will you supply the sacrifice to honor Him, and the defender to come?</em> The light from the sky spilled across the floor, helping to outline the one she started to slowly approach. She melted from the shadows, stepping over bodies that littered her path, never once breaking her gaze from him. This was the defender, carved from Mytar’s image. She could see the resemblance as she studied him, recognizing the lupine features under the remains of slaughter that covered his face. Fear began to be replaced with wonder as stopped before his towering form. She was already of a slighter height and standing with just a short distance between them served to exaggerate that difference.<br><br>The moon would shine upon her soft features as they both stood in the light while the others cowered in the darkness. It would reveal the honey and cream of her skin that was seemingly poured over delicate bone structure to create a pleasing visage. She watched him through clear grey eyes, no longer being conquered by her inner storm but filled with an enlightening that none of the others would ever hope to gain. Her fear had dwindled down to a mere seed that had the potential to grow, but only with the presence of doubt in her heart. Her people had been saved and she would pay the price. If she was condemned to die, she would do so knowing that the temple would continue on because of her sacrifice. <br><br>She sank to her knees before the dark figure, golden hair enveloping her form as she bowed her head and waited to learn her fate.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>22-08-2014, 02:03:27</strong>
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				About him, the servants of his Master looked on in the righteous fear that his presence was meant to bring. His nostrils were filled with the scent of death, and cutting through he smelled the fear as clearly as he saw it. But the one he sought was close, he could feel on her the touch touch of their Master. He crouched, bringing his murderous hands to the ground, letting his rear legs relax as well. His deep breathes could be heard in the silence that bore witness to the aftermath. He shifted his head to one side, then brought it across again, inhaling slowly.<br><br>His head swung sharply to look at the two tussling. The yellow eyes narrowed dangerously as one of them broke free of the other's grasp. The one who was holding the other servant was afraid, but for the other, not himself. The anger that grew against that one eased; protecting one of the pack was good.<br><br><em>“I am here. I am the one who called.”</em><br><br>The voice. The tension vanished within him, and his posture shifted. He was still a huge killing machine, yet there was no threat from him as all of his attention went to the one closing on him. Her physical size meant little to him, because what she carried within was great, and in the eyes of the Gods, and those who served them directly, she stood as tall and proud as he did. Yet, that part of him that Mytar left of the owner of the body spoke of the woman's beauty, of how she was appealing to those who looked on her. He took the words on faith, because that was not important to him. Her spirit, heart and mind were the truest beauty in his eyes, and she outshone all who stood about her.<br><br>He watched intently as she sank to her knees before him, bowing herself such that her back was exposed, and all means of defending herself was unavailable should he decide to strike her. Caution filled his movements, unlike the confidence he showed when he rent their enemies asunder, as he brought his snout closer to her prone form. One quick sniff told him all he needed to know; she was the one who called their Master. Her scent was clear in his head the moment he entered their world. Her scent was the one he sought out. She was the sacrifice given for the sake of her people, and her Master.<br><br>A single shunt from his bloodied nose rolled her on her back, where another bloodied hand pinned her. In a blur of action, his jaws were about her neck, the sharp teeth pressed against her skin, indenting it but not breaking the surface. He held her so for a few seconds, challenging anyone to close on him. Wisely, their Master's servants remained in place. Fear, wonder and a small amount of rekindled faith was found in them all as he gazed at them. He snorted as he lifted his maw from the young woman's neck.<br><br>One massive arm scooped her up, pinning her against his side as he rose to his full height. He raised his head toward the face of Mytar that could be seen in their world, howling triumphantly in an ear shattering volume. Happiness, joy and love echoed in the animal cry, and in the distance, a chorus of voices raised in reply, celebrating the emotions carried in his call. Each individual call carried for as long as the lungs could supply air to them, slowly fading out until the silence of the night returned once more.<br><br>"Leave!" He spoke to the servants that stood about him. Some looked in shock, unable to act, or comprehend his command, while others showed great wisdom, and sought out other places to be. "Leave! NOW!" Those with feet that seemed to be rooted to the spot broke free of their self made bindings, and ran from his sight. He turned and passed through the doors into the place of worship, where all came to praise Mytar, pray to Him and receive His blessings. The creature closed the doors and barred them. He pulled the woman close to his blood splattered chest, and dropped to what would have been all fours and approached the main statue of Mytar with humble movements. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he lowered the woman to the floor very gently, laying her on her back. With equal care, his talons made short work of the clothing that she wore, tearing it from her until she was completely naked.<br><br>One talon, shifted her hair from her face, letting none of it hide her face from him. He looked all over her face, noting every detail and letting it burn into his mind and soul. He sniffed her again; near her ear, at the base of her neck, between her breasts and at the apex of her legs. He stepped to one side, raising himself, arms wide in supplication, his head held high. Calm, peace and tranquility washed off him in a flood before he collapsed to the temple floor. Yet the creature was no longer there, but a man as naked as she was. He was covered with the blood and gore of his enemies just as the beast had been.<br><br>Heavy lidded light brown eyes looked at her as he held himself off the floor. "None enters, none leaves, until sacrifice is made." With a pained groan, he returned to the floor, exhaustion dragging him into a much needed slumber.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>22-08-2014, 03:32:31</strong>
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				Sybil fought a tremble that threatened to wrack her supplicated pose as his shadow fell over her, a clear indication that he was looming over her body to perform an action she could neither see nor predict. Fingers curled slightly to dig into the stone below her as she felt him close in and pass a gentle gust of wind along her form. He was smelling her. Considering the beast he represented, it wasn’t a complete surprise, but she had almost expected something a little more… violent. She took great care to remain still as he breathed her in, not knowing what the smallest movement on her part would provoke him to do. She had no weapons to protect herself with and those gentle worshipers that surrounded them would offer little aid should he aspire to end her. The only thing she had in her favor was that it was her prayer that had summoned him; that it wasn’t her brethren’s blood that coated his fur, but that of their enemy.<br><br>His snout pressed into her side and with gentle guidance, she was rolled onto her back, grey eyes looking directly up at him. He pinned her with one giant clawed hand that almost left her wondering why he felt the need, but he answered her question all too quickly. The slender column of her neck was trapped between his blood-soaked maw and she was made all too aware of the sharp points pressing into her tender flesh. A whimper escaped her lips, finding it near impossible to hold back the sudden wave of fear that dominated her thoughts. It was easy to imagine how quickly he could rip her to shreds with just the slightest clench of his jaw, or that one of those points could puncture an artery and leave her bleeding on the cold floor. <br><br>No one moved. They all gasped in horror at seeing her at the beast’s mercy, but it was treated as a test of their faith so they remained still. It seemed that they proved a worthy audience and soon he released her. The breath she had been holding seeped from her being and she relaxed in the slightest degree to know that she would survive for a little while longer. Her people had made her proud and she knew that somewhere in the night sky, Mytar was proud, too. She was lifted from the floor and held against him as he cried in homage and victory, his call being answered in the only way the other servants knew how. The force of his howl shook his body and she felt it vibrating against her, penetrating down to the deepest recesses of her being, awakening places within her that she never knew were at rest. <br><br>His bellowed command made her flinch and her hands fisted into his fur as all of the witnesses left the room, some more reluctant than others which made him repeat himself a bit more forcefully. She looked over her shoulder to see Malkin slowly retreating, a plethora of emotions crossing his features and none of which she could identify. She silently urged him to go lest he too feel the beast’s wrath. There was only meant to be one sacrifice; it would be a waste for there to be two. <br><br>Within moments they were the only two left in the vestibule and once pacified, he took her to the great room, locked her within and gently laid her before the towering statue of Mytar. He reached for her then and she fought to put every ounce of her being into submission so she wouldn’t push his claws away. He relieved her of her robes, his nails tearing down the fabric that split all too easily under such a steady glide and coercion. A war raged on inside of her as she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable carnage that would ensue before Mytar’s image. <br><br>Nothing. Only the warm press of his snout as he took in her scent in various places of her body, slowing moving in a downward path toward her most sacred place. She had been compliant up until that point, and just as she was about to snap her legs closed on him, he raised on his hind legs and silently praised their Lord. She opened her eyes just in time to watch him fall in a heap of flesh and bone instead of fur and teeth, managing one last command before collapsing on the floor, unconscious. She wasn’t sure what to do, who he was and what it meant that he suddenly wore a human’s skin. <br><br>Instinct guided her next action, the healer in her wanted to ensure the savior was uninjured and so she crawled over to him, bringing with her the robe that he left in tatters. She applied careful pressure to his body, lifting his limbs and rolling him gently to check for signs that he may have sustained a wound, but she quickly concluded that it was exhaustion that made him collapse, nothing more. The blood that covered him was all from the enemy.&nbsp; <em>Good.</em><br><br>Her robe had soaked up most of the blood from being pressed against him, but the parts of her that had been smeared with scarlet remains was easily wiped clean with the dark material that once clothed her lithe silhouette. It only took a few swipes of the cloth on her body, but after glancing back at him, it would take more than what she had available to thoroughly clean him. For the moment she would have to improvise and so she did.<br><br>She took her time wiping the blood away from him, starting with his face. It was hard not to admire the masculine architecture of his jaw or the curve of his lips as she worked, moving down his neck and across his chest. Every time the piece of robe was dirtied, she shifted it around until a clean expanse was found and continued diligently. His arms were the worst of it and while his flesh was still stained red from what she couldn’t completely rid him of, he at least wasn’t soaked with the tainted blood anymore. <br><br>Time seemed to blend, the moments melting together and no longer having anything to continue cleaning him with, she tossed the soiled garment aside. All there was for her to do was wait for him to wake and enlighten her on what he needed her to do. How did a sacrifice usually act under this particular circumstance? She found that her limbs were sore and her mind was weary and it wasn’t long before she settled on her side next to him, her head pillowed by her arm as she lost herself to sleep.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>25-08-2014, 02:43:36</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar dreamed...<br><br><em>He ran. Swift paws barely touched the soft ground as he propelled himself through the base of the dense woods. Above, on whispering wings, owls led the way past the massive boles that loomed in the dimly lit night air. The air was white as snow, and smelled just as pure and clean. But the hunt was on, and all were turned out to find the prey. Nothing else mattered to him, nor his brethren and the ones who took to the air. The Hunt. Only the Hunt.<br><br>The sounds of the prey started to filter through the white air, sounds of the start of the chase. The hunters all spread out, no need to communicate what each was to do, as they were of one mind through the numerous hunts together. The owls shifted in their flight, telling the other hunters where to better find their prey. He followed their wisdom, changing his approach to bring a better result to the Hunt.<br><br>He was now close enough to catch the prey's scent. Warm, strong, clear and clean. It made the prey easier to pinpoint in the thick air. His eyes strained to find the one he sought, each paw descending so slowly that he could not hear it when it made ground fall. His ears, and nose strained equally, together refining what he knew of where the prey was.<br><br>The snap of a twig sealed the doom of the prey. He was in motion before conscious thought registered the sound and need to react. Out of the gloom it appeared. Without a sound, he was in the air, toppling the prey to the ground. Long fur the colour of the brightest light in the sky flew about the head, skin as light as the snow shone in the moon's light. Pure instinct put his mouth about the neck, allowing the one swift jerk to tear the flesh from her throat. Rich, steaming blood rose from the wound like a fountain. He lifted his head and let loose a long cry of success, answered by his brethren about him.<br><br>Without any remorse, he looked into the lifeless eyes of the Child of Faith, then filled his belly with her mortal shell...</em><br><br><br>Mengar snapped awake, rising to all fours immediately, scanning the area and testing the air. Smoke from the fires that kept Winter's bite away, incense that Mytar found pleasing, as did he, and the scent of the sacrifice were all he could find. The doors remained shut, but he heard noises from outside, of the two legs... people, moving out there. They did nothing to the doors, so he disregarded them. Cautiously, he stood up, finding his balance on two legs. His thinking felt different, shifting and moving like mud under his paws... feet. Mengar shook his head, then looked at Mytar's image. The confusion that was plaguing him fell away, his Master's wisdom and presence bringing him the balance he had lost. Mengar was wearing the shape of Mytar's two legged servants, as was his Master's will. The truest servants were safe enough; they would deal with the presence of the enemies as they always did, but the two legged ones had lost their faith and wisdom. Mengar knew it was up to him to bring them back, those that were worthy. The rest, they would fall, culled from the pack to leave only the strong. Mengar bowed respectfully to his Master.<br><br>The sacrifice was sleeping, just as he had been. She was freed of the covering that the two legs seemed to always wear. He could not tell how he gained the wisdom he had, but from looking at her, she appeared to be an excellent mate, one capable of giving strong cubs... children. He found her shape to be very pleasing, and he found himself drawn to her. Her face was shaped in a way he found to be good for looking at, and he found himself reacting to her as if she was in heat.<br><br>He frowned, sniffed the air, but found no sign of her being ready to mate. He held still as his Master touched his mind, imparting wisdom of the ways of two legs to him. No..., the wisdom was there already, his Master allowed him to know it again. Two legs could mate at any time, and chose their mates on how a mate looked. It was strange, yet not. The more he looked at the Sacrifice, the more he felt her to be good for being his mate. Mytar then touched his mind, that time giving him wisdom he never had before. The Sacrifice was his mate. That was her fate, her gift to bring his servant to their aid.<br><br>Mengar looked at her again, seeing the peace of her sleep on her. But she was his mate, and it was time for him to please his Master, and claim what was his.<br><br>Mengar grabbed her ankles, and rolled the woman on her back. Easily, he parted her legs, lifting them high as he widened them. Once wide enough, he let go of her legs, and at the same time, fell forward until he was covering her body with his. She felt soft beneath him, which part of him mind told him was a good thing in a mate. He held the bulk of his weight off her, knowing again that it would not be good for her to hold his weight alone. He leaned down, nipped the base of her ear as well as giving it a blast of his breath.<br><br>"Wake, mate. Time for sacrifice."<br><br>His hips dragged the long, ridged length along her smooth skin until it was free of the prison formed by their bodies. As the tip slid down, it stopped when it was seated in the opening to her sacred place. She was not to die the death of the hunted, she would die the maiden's death instead. He waited for a moment, then plunged into her, driving his personal spear as deep as it would go into her flesh, drawing the maiden's life blood from her, leaving the woman, his mate, behind in her place.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>25-08-2014, 05:49:33</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				A dreamless void claimed her selfless, beautiful mind; the deep, empty sleep of those who knew all was at peace in their world and that it was safe to hide in the farthest recesses of the soul without fear. What Mytar had planned for his people would await discovery in the near future, but she knew he would take care of them as he had his disciples. Instead of turning a blind eye to the potential suffering they would have been forced to endure, he had used his hand to manipulate the outcome of their fate. She was grateful, as were the others who would never know of her prayer. At least not yet, but they would soon know, especially the Child of Faith. <br><br>When the other stirred, she would be found in the exact position she had taken before sleep, though her limbs were more curled in toward her core in search of heat. The stone floor was tepid to the touch, courtesy of the brazier, instead of its typical glacial temperature, but she was stripped of any material to help trap in the heat produced by her own body to aid in keeping her warm. Her head had been pillowed by the soft muscle of her upper arm, but as her body relaxed her head started to slide forward and with it the golden mane that would partially obscure her serene features. She was the epitome of a peaceful dreamer.<br><br>But all things would be led to an eventual end, just as the day would yield to the night and she would be lulled from her slumber as the savior took hold of her ankles and rolled her onto her back. The thick lock of hair that had settled over her features fell away as she was positioned to suit his desires while the rough stone slightly scraped her skin, causing her lids to flutter as the telltale signs of life were brought back to her feminine countenance. She felt his hips settle between her thighs and the heat of him was enough to banish the cloud of fatigue that felt the need to linger. Her mind fought to join the land of the wake, wanting to drag her back into that slumber where there was no turmoil, no anxiety and above all no pain.<br><br>When he leaned down and offered a hint of his intent with deep words, she went completely still beneath him as her muscles seized and her gut wrenched with dread. She felt the hard length of his divine masculinity settle upon the opening of her untouched flesh and was granted only a moment to fully realize what was about to happen. In one swift, brutal thrust of his hips he severed the evidence of her innocence and impaled her fully. He was rewarded with the bereft cry seemingly torn from her very soul that echoed within the darkened chamber. He was large, unyielding and unapologetic as he pressed his pelvis into hers, feeling that need to claim everything she had to offer. It was his right. This was her gift, her punishment and reward. This was the cost of the lives saved within Troadon that night.<br><br>He was but a shadow looming above her and his silhouette swam within her gaze as her eyes filled with tears to mourn her suffering. Small hands settled on top of his shoulders, working their way down to the broad muscles of his chest and letting them sink into his skin to create crescent-shaped divots, perhaps to punish and vent her sorrow. <em>Mate.</em> Is that what she was to him? Surely she had expected something a little more violent with a permanent end. The heels of her hands were dying to shove at him, to push him away and expel him from her body, but those words uttered in that very room came back with a vengeance to haunt her. <em>A sacrifice must be given, freely and without hesitation.</em><br><br>She had agreed upon the terms, knowing she would be a martyr in one way or another. Her suffering would only last for a short time compared to what the people could have faced. For them she would… and for him. Hot tears ran down her temples and she lamented her agony with soft whimpers, but she did not push him away. Instead, she pulled him closer by locking her ankles together behind his back and dragging the fingers that had made their mark on his flesh in a steady stroke up his chest to wrap around his neck. She embraced him like a lover should, encouraging him into that timeless rhythm and forcing back the pain.<br><br>“Be calm, my lord, go easy… I beg of you,” she pleaded against lips that hovered above hers, and instead of releasing another cry as he withdrew and made her all too aware of the piercing sting surrounding his every movement, she lifted her head just enough to claim his mouth with the same ferocity as he claimed her body, wanting him to make her forget the pain and embrace the pleasure.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>28-08-2014, 02:00:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her cry was a mixture of joy and sadness for Mengar. The sadness was from the pain he brought to her, the one he would protect above all others, but then he heard the joy that she had been claimed by a man, one blessed by their Master. The feel of her beneath him was perfect, as if it had been ordained that they were bound together. It may not have been ordained as such, but a God ensured that they would be right for each other. Mengar saw the eyes of his mate fill with water, which he knew was most likely a sign of her sadness. He struggled to think of why she was still sad, but the ways of the two legs were strange to him, yet he had faint echoes of why she would be sad.<br><br>He shivered as her hands wandered his body, a little more as her fingers dug into his flesh as far as they would. The feelings were not ones that he recognized in his other forms, yet they felt right and proper in his current shape. He briefly wondered if she would have similar feelings when he ran his paws... hands over her body. She was shaped well for... hands to explore. It seemed to him that touching her, like she touched him, was what a body like hers was for. He felt her legs wrap around him, bringing a fight-like reaction from him initially. The echoes grew louder, easing his response because it was a way for her to show she wanted him to mate with her; to keep him within her heat. He arms moved again, trailing back to his neck, leaving a wake of shivers that spread through him, touching him in ways that were new, yet not. Again, the circle of arms around his neck didn't feel right, yet the echoes said otherwise. She was not trying to fight against him. That thought, feeling was becoming more clearer with her actions, and he was learning to trust the echoes more, as they must have been granted by his Master.<br><br><em>“Be calm, my lord, go easy… I beg of you.”</em><br><br>Her lips, once the words were spoken, joined his in a strong motion. Mengar was stunned, not sure of what to do, guessing it was a sign of acceptance over what they were doing. But Mengar listened to his own body, and rode the reactions that flowed from it. He returned the joining of their lips with the same passion as his mate had shown, forcing her head back until she was resting against the floor. His tongue probed and pushed against her mouth and teeth, seeking to discover the treasures deeper within. While they continued there, Mengar drew his hips back, ready to plunge into her like he had done with his initial thrust, yet he found himself sliding back in slower than he had wanted, still driving himself into her fully. Again, echoes of similar times teased his mind, causing his body to respond. Again, he surrendered to what he felt was his Master's wisdom, letting his body do as it wished, and rode on the waves of pleasure that the claiming of his mate was creating within him.<br><br>Muffled by lips and tongue busy tasting her mouth, the grunts and groans coming from him left little to the listener's ears about his delight in her body. Mating was a duty, yet for the two leg he inhabited, it was also a great pleasure, and a way of bonding with his mate. He could feel his connection to her growing, his need to protect her was stronger than any he had felt before. She was his, the reward the Master had given him for doing his duties for their Master. His and his mate could, and would, mate anytime he desired, and it would bring joy to them both, a joy blessed by the Master. Mating with her would be a prayer to the Master they would do together, showing that His blessings were rightfully placed.<br><br>He felt a change within, the echoes controlling his body fading, replaced by another, stronger urge that felt right too. He shifted slightly, his feet gaining more traction and his hands seemed to find just enough of the floor to gain a good hold. He pulled back from her lips, looking deep into her eyes as he let go of his body. His hips moved with swiftness, slamming his groin into hers in an almost violent fashion. He was holding himself back, for he knew that she would not easily take the fullness of his power, but he held off only what he had to as he otherwise, again, let his body do as it will. His raggedly cut dark brown hair was clumping together in thick strands from his sweat. The sun kissed skin of his face glowed with a ruddy light, making the golden brown eyes lean more toward the colour of the sun rather than the earth. The day's growth on his face caught errant droplets of sweat that tried to escape his rugged jawline as he stared at his mate below.<br><br>He felt his time growing near. He shifted himself about to get the friction needed to bring about the end of the mating. He whimpered slightly as the first pulse ran through his length, the pain barely surpassed by the pleasure. A soft cry was given to his mate to let her know he was pleased to have mated with her, that was followed by an equally soft howl of triumph. He remained in her, his gaze never shifting from her eyes as he felt her beneath him, and around him. He did nothing but breath as he cooled down, staring at her as if he could read her soul through her eyes.<br><br>"Child of Faith now mate. None shall harm mate. Mate is mine, as Master wants. Me... Meng... Mengar... yes, Mengar will restore faith in Master and drive enemy from this place."<br><br>He lifted one hand, stroking it through her hair, lifting several strands to his nose. He took a deep breath and smiled warmly.<br><br>"Mate smells good, smells pretty." Another echo produced a look of confusion and embarrassment. "Mate has name, yes? Like this one is Mengar. What name given to Child of Faith?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>28-08-2014, 15:43:14</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				For Sybil, there would be no pain ceased by the intrusion of pleasure, but there was sublimity in knowing that her body was an acceptable vessel for Mytar’s will, no matter how strongly she would have preferred otherwise. After all, she had spoken the words that would ultimately open her up to any scenario, favored or no. In retrospect, her current one was potentially the most merciful she could have hoped for. The defender was only taking what Mytar had offered; her body that once belonged to the caliginous deity was at the stranger’s disposal and he would reap pleasure from her supple form at his discretion. <br><br>A beast in heart as well as flesh, he devoured her mouth while he claimed her body. His voracious hunger was a welcomed distraction to the assiduous ache that deepened as he went deeper, forcing her unaccustomed walls to stretch around his being, although with a little more consideration after hearing her plea. The next time his pelvis connected with hers, it was slower and held less force at the end, yet it only replaced one sensation of pain for another; ripping became yielding and a more prudent stroke allowed her to experience every facet of his curvature as it forced her body to mold to his. As their mouths continued to explore each other, her soft and reticent probing being dominated by the rough sweep of his tongue between her parted lips, their mating started to feel less like an obligation and somehow more <em>right</em>.<br><br>She drank of his sounds of pleasure, the visceral grunts and groans all but telling her how well he was enjoying her body. Sybil remained quiet, only letting go of a strained sigh every now and then as she tried to hide her discomfort. It would be over soon enough and she would be able to tend to her wounds, but not a moment before the sacrifice was complete. It was Mytar’s will and so it was done. Eventually, he pulled his warm lips away from hers and deprived her of the only comfort she had as he prepared himself for the onslaught about to come her way. As his limbs sought better purchase, so did hers, by loosening her arms so her hands could tentatively roam along his upper back while his depths looked into her grey ones. The first slam pulled a hiss from her lips and every subsequent thrust after had her groaning and whimpering. Short nails bit into his back and dragged with the motions of his body, never breaking his skin but creating stark red lines in their wake. <br><br>The stone scraped at her back as his body pinned her to the floor time and again until he let loose a soft cry and spilled himself within her. It was hot and she could feel her womb filled with him, but for the moment her torment had been brought to an end. The hands that had abused his flesh went to his face, brushing away the damp strands that fell in front of his forehead. His words brought a smile to her lips, intended to appear warm but it was tainted with a strained quality. <br><br>“Mengar,” she gave a tremulous whisper, testing out how his name rolled from her tongue as he breathed in her scent from a lock of hair. <br><br>“My name is Sybil, one of Mytar’s priestesses,” she explained, though the last bit seemed superfluous as he would already know who, or what she was. <br><br>He was still above her and hadn’t yet drawn out, so she took the moment to encourage him to do so lest he want to continue the ritual. A hand slid down the side of his body and settled on his hip, holding him there as she started to scoot out from under him. He was deprived the warmth of her and once freed from him, the discomfort was all too apparent. It was formed in one dull, aching throb and the slightest movement seemed to exacerbate it. She stood up, her motions awkward, and slowly walked over to the statue, disappearing behind it to an ancient wooden chest that had extra supplies should her brethren find the immediate need for worship. Inside she was happy to find extra robes, though nothing else within would suit their purpose. The cloth smelled old and had a faint musk to it, but it would only be needed for the journey back to her chamber where it could be shed and discarded.<br><br>“My lo—,” she paused to correct herself, “Mengar… mate. Let us go back to my chamber where I may wash the residual blood from you,” she spoke as she made her way back to him, the robes clutched to her chest to hide her nakedness. She may have shared her body with him, but it was habit that dictated she hide her true form. Her gait was stiff and lacked the confident, sinuous stride that so often carried her from one place to the next. She took her time and eventually stopped before him, taking one of the garments, she dropped the other at her feet and proceeded to pull the obscuring material over her head, assuming he would follow suit. For a brief moment he would see the delicate curves of her body, though full enough to entice a man to give into his basest desires. From the mounds that would fill his palms to the slender waist that melted into the graceful curve of her hips. And if he would dare a further look, shapely thighs that held the evidence of his lust and the loss of her innocence.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>30-08-2014, 05:19:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hearing his name from her lips sent a strong shiver down Mengar's spine. The way it was carried on soft breath made it feel more special. He longed to hear her speak his name again in such a breathy way.<br><br><em>“My name is Sybil, one of Mytar’s priestesses.”</em><br><br>"Sybil. Sybil. Sybil." He spoke it different ways until he got it sounding the way she had said it. A soft, curvy name like her body, the one he still held semi trapped beneath him on the stone floor. He felt her hand at his hip, pushing him gently. He allowed himself to follow her lead, as he was unsure of what the two legs did once the mating was done, and there was no desire to mate again. He slipped from her, feeling the cold air bite at the sloppy appendage. He kept himself still while she moved herself from underneath him. He watched her walk, noting that it was very different to the way she walked when she gave herself to him after his battle. She disappeared behind one of the statues, where he heard her open something, rummage then close it again.<br><br><em>“My lo—, Mengar… mate. Let us go back to my chamber where I may wash the residual blood from you.”</em><br><br>He looked at himself, seeing that most of the blood had been cleaned from him. He looked back at Sybil, nodded and grunted. he was on his feet in one graceful move, the clothing she dropped at his feet remained there as he made his way to the doors that would lead them into the outside world. He paused to watch her dress, remembering that the two legs felt the need to cover themselves. A small part of him liked the clothing she put on; the way it hinted at what was beneath he found to be rather appealing, just as he found her naked form appealing too.<br><br>Once she had finished getting herself dressed, he went to the door, removed the bar as it is was a thin stick, and threw open the doors. Several of Mytar's two legged servants were startled, taking several steps back from the opened doors. Several gasped and averted their eyes, whether from the nakedness, or the blood smeared body he wasn't sure and didn't care. A few craned their necks to look past him, trying to see Sybil, or possibly check that the temple had not been desecrated.<br><br><br>Malkin had been by the doors all night. He heard some of what happened, shame, jealously and a small amount of respect filled the hollow of his soul while he stood his vigil. He was looking rather unkempt, the dark rings under his eyes spoke the most about his internal struggle. He wanted to take on the beast that had cruelly taken Sybil and... He knew it was wrong, but he felt betrayed that Sybil had given her body to another, rather than him. he had no rights to her, and he had never spoke of the true depths of his feelings for her, as it would not be proper or seemly to do so. yet he couldn't help but feel anger toward the earthy manifestation of Mytar's avatar. It was too close to having him hate his Master, which he couldn't do. It was not possible for him to hate the God that gave his life meaning. Yet, the one that took Sybil away, it wasn't so hard to hate him.<br><br>He saw Sybil, and his heart almost broke. She was sore. He saw it in her face, and the way she walked. The anger flared within him again, knowing that the monster had taken her maiden away, and Sybil was a woman. He was at a loss as to what he was to do. he could not simply ignore her and what happened to her. He loved her too much, even as a sister-servant, to just not be there for her. If he raised a hand to her or to him, he knew that his life would be forfeit. He had never thought that he would be placed in such a place where his feelings would drive his thoughts so strongly.<br><br>When he felt the ears rolling down his cheeks, he turned and walked away as fast as his feet would take him. He would find a broom, mop and other items needed and he would clean the temple of what they did within. He cared not if it was Mytar's will that it happened, and happened in his most holy of places. The temple was soiled, and he would clean it, make it proper once more, as it always had been. Mytar had chosen her fate, and he was not one to question the will of his Master. Maybe, when he was more wise in the ways of his Master, then he may question His will. But until then, he would be a loyal follower, not matter how much it hurt him.<br><br><br>Mengar gave the servants a look that spoke of displeasure, and challenge. A few found other things to do, and left quickly before matters got messy. Most looked at the man, confused that there was no beast like there was the night before. yet his light brown, almost wheat coloured eyes carried in them the same fire that the beast had from the prior night, and he moved in ways that mimicked the beast. Once he looked at them all, and saw they were not a threat to him, he looked back at Sybil. The fire dimmed immediately, becoming a thing of comfort, rather than fright. He loped over to her, rubbing his nose along her neck from shoulder to behind her ear, taking in a lungful of her scent.<br><br>Mengar followed her, his gait clear that it was due to his lack of knowledge of where they were going, rather than because she was his leader. He kept alert to any danger, but something deep within him knew that there was no danger at that time, but the danger would return. He had surprised his Master's foes, and would do so again for a while, but once they knew who he was, the fight would change, but he would be ready.<br><br>They reached the door to Sybil's chambers. Mengar dropped down and sniffed the door jam on both sides thoroughly. He raised himself to his full height, and urinated on both sides of the door. He let a short stream splash on the walls either side, grunting in satisfaction when he was done. Mengar gave Sybil a stern look, as if challenging her to question him over what he did.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>31-08-2014, 16:53:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was in the process of making quick work out of tying the thin cord around her waist to synch the black material to her body when she caught his movement in her peripheral. He hadn’t even attempted to dress himself or shield his nudity before he lifted the wooden bar from the door. She wondered what purpose the blockage had served: to keep the others out or trap her in? It was a little unsettling, but not so much as his next action. He moved to open the doors and in a moment of panic she stepped toward him with every intent to stop him from exposing himself to the others potentially roaming about the temple, even shouting, “Mengar, wait!” But it was too late.<br><br>The doors were swung open to reveal familiar faces that immediately blushed and focused their eyes elsewhere. She was mortified to think they had heard what was supposed to be a private affair between the defender, Mytar and herself, knowing she was no longer pure but ultimately the mate of their Lord’s chosen savior. It was a shock that she was still trying to overcome as well. With his back turned to her, she couldn’t witness the severity of his gaze as he dispersed it among the onlookers, but she would know the effect had been great when her brethren started to disperse and eventually depart from the inner sanctum with a bit of shame. It would be a small mercy that she never laid eyes on Malkin before he left, for her heart would have broken for him and perhaps for her, too.<br><br>Her newfound mate turned around, all evidence of his scorn wiped from his face as he made his way to her. She wouldn’t have known what to expect from his next set of actions, but dragging his nose along the delicate curvature of her skin from shoulder to ear was not it. She was still as he captured her scent, finding that in the close proximity, she could smell his own. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was tainted with what she hadn’t been able to clean off of him while he slept. Once he was rid of the blood from their enemies, he would undoubtedly be more dangerous to her than he already was, with an intoxicating, masculine scent to match.<br><br>She was unsure if it was wise to encourage him to cover his nudity for the time being, so she left the garment at her feet. He would be provided with fresh robes in the privacy of her chamber and it would be coaxed onto his body with a gentle touch and kind word. It was something in which she was confident, so she resolved to let him follow her along the dim passageways to her room without a word from her part. She required more effort to focus on her awkward stride that was punctuated with a slight limp, though she did her best to cover it. It was all a part of the plan and for her people she would have gladly suffered again. <br><br>Along the way, she caught another soul by the arm that was rushing by, telling her worried sister that she would need hot water for a bath immediately. With a nod the other scampered off to alarm the others. It was only a short distance after that to their destination and the whole time she could practically feel his heat at her back, finding it somewhat comforting. Her pace slowed and eventually stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, lit by one sconce mounted on the stone wall to the right of it. <br><br>“This would… be… it…,” she trailed off as she watched the flow of defilement drench each side of her chamber door. It seemed he would adopt the nature of his second form, even traits that would seem less appropriate in social situations. The heat was rising in her cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and anger swirling in her eyes. She forced her liquid gaze to rise up from his offending appendage to his face, noticing a severe look that was all for her. She frowned at him, but said nothing as she looked away and entered her room, careful to step around the puddle as she passed over the threshold.<br><br>Upon entering, they would be basked in a gentle glow from more sconces that lined the bare walls. The small light would melt away the shadows and give hints to the furnishings within. It wasn’t a large room, though adequate enough to house a bed just large enough for two bodies, a cabinet to hold her robes and articles used for specific practices, an iron basin used for washing, a brazier for worship and a stand next to the bed for a small, stone sculpture of a wolf to sit. The lodging was humble; she didn’t require many material goods and the chamber was a place for her to seek solace in her own company or to sleep, that was all.<br><br>She went over to her cabinet and started to pull out freshly laundered robes that wouldn’t have the distinct smell of dust and stale air, along with a bar of harsh soap and a fresh cloth, and then set them on the bed as she waited for the buckets to come and fill the iron basin for him. She made to sit down on the side of her bed, but a sharp hiss indicated the error of that particular impulse and she resorted to standing. Sybil stole a glance at him, still irritated that he desecrated her door, but calmed her features so it wouldn’t show in her expression. “It isn’t much, but this is what I have to offer,” her voice sounded almost sad at the admittance, even though she knew she shouldn’t be ashamed. Their life was one of solitude and worship, a simple existence, really. They didn’t marry or bear children; they served.<br><br>A face peeked in to the room before the others started shuffling in, carrying buckets with the steaming contents in each hand and moving over to the tub. Each one emptied their bucket unceremoniously and quickly left, never making eye contact with Mengar. It was probably for the best. After they were done, it was filled halfway which would be more than enough to cleanse his skin. She followed the last one out, quietly thanking him, and closed the door behind her, then pressed her back against it. The few hours of sleep she’d managed before she was violently ripped out of it did little to assuage her fatigue and the bed looked even more welcoming than usual. <br><br>She looked over at Mengar and gave him a soft smile, then looked toward the tub as a subtle indication for him to get in. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>11-09-2014, 02:54:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The room didn't smell like her, but smelled of her. Her place within the holy site was a part of her to Mengar's senses. He could close his eyes and feel her presence all about him. He took a few cautious steps, looking at everything within the room. There was nothing out of place about it. Everything there was meant to be there, and they all served a practical purpose to the servant of Mytar. Nothing to distract her from her chosen path in life, everything there to focus her thoughts on the one thing that mattered, Mytar.<br><br>Several other servants came in, each carrying sun kissed water that they poured into a large metal container until it was half full. He sniffed it cautiously, but found it to be only water and nothing else. He turned to look at his mate, seeing her resting against the door. His head canted to one side, his expression one of concern for her, mixed with curiosity. He had seen her try to sit, only to hiss in pain and rise to her feet quickly. The thought that what they had done and the source of her pain being connected never crossed his mind. But that didn't lessen his concern for her, because he wanted her to be safe and in as little pain as possible.<br><br>When he finished sniffing the water, he looked back to Sybil to see what the water meant. He caught her look, and somehow, he sensed that she wanted him to get into the water. He returned her look with one of curiosity and questioning, but he remembered that she was the Child of Faith and would not do anything to harm him. Further, she was his mate, and she would keep him fit and healthy to fight their Master's enemies.<br><br>He stepped into the water, feeling the strong warmth surge into his legs. It felt good, and he lowered quickly into the water. The splash almost sent water out of the tub. But Mengar sat for a few moments, letting the water ease his tensions as well as lift some of the less stubborn stains from his body. More from curiosity, he lowered his body into the water, watching the remnant stains of enemy blood slowly disappear from his body. Childlike wonder filled him as he touched parts of his skin, assisting small flakes of dried blood to drift away. Mengar never knew that water like that would do such strange things to the things that covered his body, such as blood and dirt. The smile he gave Sybil removed all signs of the more feral aspects, as well as lifting years from his face. It was true, natural and free of guile and fitted his face perfectly.<br><br>For that brief moment, it could be easily forgotten that he was more than just a man, because all that could be seen, or sensed was just a person who was happy sitting in a warm bath.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>12-09-2014, 00:44:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He seemed curious, even teetering on suspicious of the water waiting to soak his strong limbs. She watched as he stepped inside, and evidently liked what he experienced in the heated, shallow pool, for he quickly sank down so the rest of his body would be able to experience the calming effect the water had to offer. Sybil would have preferred to stay planted in front of her door, being torn on whether to make her escape into the temple and hide from the near stranger or to approach and obey like the devoted servant she was. There was a brief sigh that passed her lips as she pushed off of the wood and made her way to the bed to collect the items to be used to bathe her new mate. The offering was still young and fragile, but she was nothing if not a loyal disciple and the punishment for turning against her beloved deity would be horrendous.<br><br>She was ashamed to find herself reluctant to go to him; after all he was just as much her responsibility as she was his. What had happened in Mytar’s inner sanctum had been horrifying, but she would have to move on and hope that the next time he sought to claim her he would express more care, even if she didn’t know what that really meant. A connection had been sparked between them, the flame kindled by none other than Mytar himself. It was right. It was what he wanted, even commanded. It was his will and she was no one to question it. She was only a simple human trying her best to contain new, plaguing emotions while satisfying a promise she had made.<br><br>“I’d like to help… if I could,” Sybil knelt down beside the basin and when she directed her attention to him, she was captured by that serene smile. She couldn’t help but offer one of her own in turn while slipping the sleeves of her robes up to her biceps and dipping the cloth into the water next to his hip, then wringing it above the surface so she could start to work a lather with the soap. Her focus was directed on the suds sprouting between her ministrations, trying not to look at his body that was so close, yet mercifully separated by an iron basin. <br><br>“Master Reimy will wish to speak with you come morning. I won’t let anyone disturb you until you’ve had your rest,” she promised while settling the cloth at the top of his shoulder and rubbing it down his arm. “They are all very eager to know about our savior, I’m sure,” she added. She could feel the power pulsing beneath his flesh, reminding her that he was not human but something else… something more. Her other hand took his, lifting it so she could wash the underside of his arm to ensure he was thoroughly stripped of what was left of the fallen soldiers. It seemed near sacrilege for the savior to be dirtied by the blood of their enemies and she wouldn’t rest easy until she knew he was rid of every last bit of crusted blood.<br><br>Once that arm was cleaned, she let his hand go so he could place it wherever he wished before dipping the cloth into the water and directing her attention to his chest and neck. Wherever her hand roamed, a trail of soap suds was left behind only to be washed away after another pass. She wasn’t ready to go to the other side of him, instead working the cloth down his ribs and abdomen, having to get closer in order to extend her reach. Gray eyes rolled up to hopefully meet his once she realized just how near she was to him, her hand skirting dangerously close to the apex of his thighs before swiftly moving into another direction. <br><br>“How does it feel, Mengar?” The question was presented by a voice that was whisper-soft with a slight husky quality. It seemed he wasn't the only one to enjoy his bath.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>25-09-2014, 04:01:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Curiosity filled him to the brim as he watched his mate gather up items from the bed, and moved to join him. Mengar sat in silence as Sybil rolled up her sleeves, and started getting the cloth ready to clean the remains of the previous day's battle from his skin. He sniffed noisily as the suds grew on the cloth. It smelled odd, but once more he placed his trust in her, and let her lead. Mengar was amazed at the way the cloth removed the dirt and blood from his skin better than the warm water had. Even the rubbing of the cloth was enjoyable, but he would have enjoyed it more if it had been her hand rather than the cloth moving across his skin.<br><br><em>“Master Reimy will wish to speak with you come morning. I won’t let anyone disturb you until you’ve had your rest. They are all very eager to know about our savior, I’m sure.”</em><br><br>Master Reimy brought an image to mind of an old man, pious in his own way, but he lacked the deeper bond that the Child of Faith had. Even at the height of his faith, he was not as willing a servant as Sybil was. But, as in many things, Reimy lost his faith the further up the hierarchy he climbed. Politics and worldly matters always killed faith, even if it was by the smallest of cuts. But the man served his Master still, and Mytar accepted that the man's lack of faith was offset by his abilities to let those with stronger faith remain shielded, and devote their time to their Master.<br><br>He found himself looking into the gray of his mate's eyes, lost in the subtle shades within, and the delicate patterns that seemed to rise and fall within them as her eyes moved. He found them fascinating to a degree that he never felt before. His gaze flickered all over the pools of gray, trying to achieve the impossible and see everything at one moment. He cared little where her hand went, nor was he concerned at the sudden change of direction as her hand strayed further down his body. Some small echo sounded of embarrassment associated with his maleness between his legs, but he couldn't understand why he would ever feel that way. It was a part of his body, and he knew from the night before, it did what was required of it.<br><br><em>“How does it feel, Mengar?”</em><br><br>He knew the answer in his own mind, but it took a while for the right sounds... words... to form up. "Mengar feels good. Water good. Mate... Sybil... is kind to her... to Mengar. Mengar like Sybil to keep doing..." He glanced at the hand that held the cloth. He gave her another true smile, on that reflected the calm he was feeling while she tended to him. he knew it was right for her to serve him as she was, but he also knew that it was proper for him to serve her as well, beyond being the one to protect her from any dangers that threatened her. When she had finished tending to him, he would tend to her, as was right and proper.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>28-09-2014, 16:55:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				While her gaze was captured with such quiet intensity, her hand slowed its trajectory down his leg for a moment. It was surprisingly easy to let him search into her soul, yet she wondered what he would find there. Would it hold the qualities necessary for a child of faith or would he find that she was completely out of her element and just a lost little girl? Sybil was strong in her convictions and she knew her heart was in the right place, but it wouldn’t always make up for other flaws that shone brighter. For those brief moments, she was drowning under the scrutiny and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull herself away. Her question had been posed to him, waiting to be answered and he would take his time to form the words.<br><br>Finally, upon confessing that he was enjoying her gift and after confirming it as truth with a warm smile, she followed the line of his gaze to her hand that had stilled beneath the water. It was a small mercy that she was no longer crushed beneath the weight of his searching eyes and she continued that slow glide down his leg, scrubbing gently where it was needed. The cloth was lifted from the water and lathered again and it was time that she shift to the other side and repeat the same actions, doing so in silence. There was nothing else she could think of to say, only enjoying the moment and his company. He was the very embodiment of a godsend and she would do her best to treasure him as Mytar intended.<br><br>With her head bowed and her hands hard at work, golden hair fell over her shoulder to hide her face. It wasn’t pushed out of the way; she liked being able to hide behind it for the moment, lest she get caught in those soft brown pools and drown again. The cloth was ever diligent and thorough and she tried to concentrate on cleaning his skin instead of focusing on the muscles that rippled under her hand. Even in the flesh of a human, he was built to defend and conquer. Which brought her to reflect on the beast he had been when he saved the temple from imminent demise. There was no question that he was Mytar’s chosen hand, but what was he? Half-man, half-wolf? Too embarrassed to ask him directly, she would make it a point to look through some of the old tomes and seek answers.<br><br>The cloth finished at his feet and was lifted out of the water to be wrung and then placed on the side of the basin to dry. She managed a single glance at him before severing the connection, and then slinked behind him to kneel. She wasn’t quite finished and wanted to express further gratitude for his presence. A hand settled on each shoulder and she used the leftover moisture from his bathing to help glide the palms of her hands along his flesh toward his neck. They stopped at the juncture and began to slowly knead the tension from him. “Relax for me, Mengar. It will feel good…,” her voice was low and soothing. Her right hand left its place to join the other, utilizing her thumbs and fingertips to work his muscles with careful precision. <br><br>His skin glistened beneath the soft light and it tempted her in ways she’d only begun to know. She was moving before she realized it and he would feel soft lips pressing against his ear, and then lower onto his neck. She breathed in his natural scent that was readily sampled now that there was nothing else to hinder it. With a very slow, very careful movement, she nudged his head gently to the side in order to grant her a broader expanse of area to lavish her affection on. One of her hands slipped down his chest and caressed the contour of his chest muscles, fingers twining in what hair she might have found there. She wasn’t sure what it was that made her so bold, but once she started she couldn’t stop… 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>30-09-2014, 05:36:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Part of Mengar wanted to watch Sybil as she moved behind him. The deep primal need to track everything in his presence, coupled with the strong urge to enjoy looking at her fought with his knowledge that she was both no danger to him, as well as seeking to do something good for his tired body.<br><br><em>“Relax for me, Mengar. It will feel good…”</em><br><br>He felt her fingers press against him, and since she was his mate, and the beloved servant of their Master, he did as she asked. His eyes drifted close as he felt the ways her fingers worked his muscles, removing tensions he was so used to that he never knew they were there until she removed them. He almost purred as she continued to work her magic on him, delighted that Sybil felt the desire to give him such pleasure. He shifted himself slightly to allow her better access to the rest of his upper back.<br><br>He started for a moment when he felt the press of her soft lips against his ear, then let his eyes close again as she continued to kiss his neck. Those kisses melded two different, feelings, ones almost alien to each other, yet they seemed to compliment each other totally. Once feeling longed for her to use her kiss and lick below his ear, near when the bone of his jaw ended. Another longed for her to kiss anywhere and everywhere; letting her teeth graze his skin, and her mouth swallow whatever it could. He bent his head to expose more of his neck and shoulder for her to kiss. He felt himself warming to a point the water was starting to cool against his skin. His heart pounded in his chest, and urges to take his mate started to overwhelm his thinking. Even the hand that trailed over his chest left a blazing wake that only magnified his desires.<br><br>He took hold of the arm, and pulled Sybil into the bath with him. As soon as her mouth was within reach, he mashed his lips against hers with a raw display of passion. Almost oblivious to his own actions, Mengar roughly moved her around until her body was facing his, her legs forced either side of his. He left her mouth, zeroing in on the spot beneath her ear, kissing, kicking and nipping at the flesh. He dropped his mouth half way down her neck, and took a large mouthful of her flesh, clamping his teeth onto her flesh and sucking on it hard. When he pulled off her neck, he looked at her with eyes closer to the colour of the sun than of the earth. He looked deeply into her eyes, his own clearly showing his desire for her, as well as something else, some emotion that was forming the core of a bond between them. Behind it all, there was a respect for Sybil, one for someone who felt the need to help the pack beyond just helping herself.<br><br>Mengar's chest flexed and ebbed with the massive intake of air his body needed as it blazed under the effects of the woman his Master had gifted him, the woman who his Master had made his responsibility. The partially soaked cloth draped and wrapped about Sybil was getting in the way. His large, calloused hands took hold of the neckline of the robes, pulling the fabric apart roughly down the front of the robes. His hands shifted impatiently down the rip, extending it until it reached the hem, allowing him to expose her body to him as he wanted.<br><br>Some thought, or maybe a memory, floated through his lust hazed mind. Without hesitation, he acted on it, bringing one of Sybil's breasts close to his mouth where he kissed it all over. He added ever so often a soft nip on the soft flesh until he had kissed everywhere but the darker, rougher patch of skin. The foreign wisdom spoke of leaving it until last. His first real contact was a slow, rough pass of his tongue. More wisdom floated high enough to be acted on, Mengar grateful for Mytar to grant wisdom to His servant to allow him to please his mate so much. Mengar suckled the captured flesh, pressing his tongue against it to squeeze it firmly. He pulled his mouth off, stretching it until it popped free.<br><br>"Sybil like? Our Master give Mengar wisdom of what to do with human mate." He lavished her other breast with similar attention, granting more nips that the first time, and giving her the sensations he knew were more pleasing to her that others. He knew that Mytar's wisdom was guidance, just like all other wisdom He shared. The base knowledge was granted, and then His servant used that knowledge to fulfill the tasks they needed to do. The sounds and feel of the enjoyment Sybil was having made Mengar feel a joy that was very close to that which he felt when he served his Master's wishes.<br><br>Both his hands took Sybil's hips, gripping them hard as he moved her into position above his cock. With one confident motion, him impaled her on his cock holding her there for a few seconds to let her feel him fill her. His lips once more founds hers in a searing kiss that felt like their souls were joining together like their bodies were.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>01-10-2014, 01:12:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sybil was enjoying the moment and the company of the one she was left to care for and it was tempting to let time pass them by as they became better acquainted, however there was still much to be done and she wanted to check on her brethren and the status of the invasion. She began to withdraw from him, fingertips trailing across his flesh as she pulled away but was stopped by the swift capture of her arm. Even if she could have summoned the willpower to fight the strong grip upon her, there would still have been no escape. It only took one sharp tug and she was in the tub with him with water splashing violently to the floor from all sides. She was thoroughly soaked; only the top of her head had been saved from the wave. <br><br>He never even granted her the time to situate herself before he took her lips with his own, his soft tiers expressing without words the fire she had ignited. And she felt it, causing the heat to rise within herself as the flames licked down to her very core. She didn’t need much handling getting situated, although he put her exactly where instinct instructed both of them to go. Small hands rose from the water and slid up his chest as they were locked in a passionate kiss, soon to be broken so he could explore other deliciously sensitive parts of her body. His lips were insatiable as well as vicious as they tasted first the flesh just under her ear and then the side of her neck. Her gasp was of both surprise and shock; the latter of which inspired by an ache that suddenly made itself known between her thighs. <br><br>When he pulled back to look at her, it was not soft brown depths that captivated her, but the amber of a wolf. It somehow brought her back to reality, a crude reminder that he was not a man, but a beast. <em>Protector</em>, she had to remind herself, <em>not predator</em>, though such characteristics wouldn’t slip past him. He gripped the material of her robe and tore it apart to once again bare creamy flesh. The garment was beyond ruined and she slipped out of it without breaking eye contact. With the robe forgotten behind her, she was now his to fully enjoy. <br><br>She watched as he brought her closer and planted many kisses on her breast, causing the rosy center to harden into tiny nubs. Her fingers found their way into his hair and she made soft fists as he captured one and drew on it with his mouth. The treatment wasn’t overly tender, yet there was something wildly erotic about his feral nature and she only quietly begged him to continue with small whimpers, serving as the only way she could answer him in those moments. While he continued on her other breast, she closed her eyes to better enjoy every sensation he lavished upon her. She had never fathomed that a hot mouth would invoke such exquisite pleasure and inspire a deep-seated desire that threatened to consume her before he did.<br><br>Eventually he pulled way to leave her wanting more while his hands found her hips so they could start the mating ritual once again. There was no time to second guess his decision or even fight him, as he had already impaled her upon his rigid length. Her walls experienced both pain and pleasure and she groaned as she sat still upon his lap. She wanted badly to please him, yet she was reluctant to continue for fear that she wouldn’t have the strength to walk after. His kiss made her burn for him and her hands left the silk of his hair to dip below the water and take hold of his wrists. Gently, she urged his grip to loosen from her hips and placed them at his sides. <br><br>“My beloved, it is too soon,” she whispered after breaking the kiss, an apology lingering in her voice. And as quickly as he’d shoved himself inside of her, she lifted herself just enough for him to slip from between her folds. There was a slight wince, yet she corrected her features in hopes that he wouldn’t suspect her pain. It was her burden to carry, not his. Her hands cupped his face, feeling his stubble scrape her palm as she looked into his eyes. “I am yours for as long as you’ll have me,” she still had that husky edge, even as her breathing started to calm, “but I ask that you grant me one day where I can heal,” and with that she ended her request with a kiss to his forehead and carefully stood up from the water. Should he look up, he would have a clear view of the body he had uncovered… the vessel that belonged to him and him alone. From the supple thighs and the golden curls nestled between, to the soft curve of her hip leading into a slender waist. Everything.<br><br>She turned and held onto the side of the basin, and once securing a firm grip she left the cooled water and dripped her way over to retrieve towels to dry off with. One was brought back to him, the other was used to wipe herself down and then to cover herself as she produced a robe that was slipped over her head. It was his turn, assuming he was done with his bath; she went to him to lend her aid should he need it in drying off. His body was a magnificent one and she hoped he would let her explore it better when they had more time to spare.<br><br>“Mengar, I need you to wear this,” she held up the black robes that were sure to fit. “It is only proper to be clothed while we visit Master Reimy…,” gray eyes turned up to him, silently pleading for him to oblige while she held the robe in preparation to help him inside. She had attempted to be firm, yet she lacked the gull to command Mytar’s chosen to do anything, even covering his nudity.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>03-10-2014, 04:02:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At first, Mengar was confused at the way Sybil took a hold of his hands and removed them from her body. He sat there, stunned as he looked on, her soft spoken apology both lodged deeply in his mind, and completely unheard. But what did surprise him was the quick flash of pain as she lifted herself from him. Nothing in his knowledge told him of why she would feel pain from what little they had done, nor did he feel that he had done anything to actually hurt her. But she was not one to fake feelings or to lie to him through her deeds. His Master would not allow that from the Child of Faith, as she was completely open to their Master, and he would easily pierce her heart to find the truth even if she was hiding it from others.<br><br>He returned from his thinking when Sybil's soft hands cupped his face. A warmth beyond that gained from her hands built within him at her touch. The urge to mate was still there, still strong. He was about to act on it again but the words she spoke gave him pause.<br><br><em>“I am yours for as long as you’ll have me, but I ask that you grant me one day where I can heal.”</em><br><br>Her lips pressed against the creases in his forehead born of his frown as he sought to understand why she needed time to heal. As she stood up, he kept his eyes on her, enjoying the look of her body as the gods created it. Mengar was aware that humans saw different qualities in a mate that the wolf did, and he could clearly see how Sybil would be a highly sought after mate, had she not been in Mytar's service. Just looking at her kept him ready to mate, and he was fighting hard against the need to take her again, as was his right.<br><br>Once more, wisdom he attributed to Mytar floated up into his mind, showing him other ways he could 'mate' with her that would not use the part of her that needed time to heal. He canted his head slightly, wondering if Sybil had such wisdom herself, and if she knew that they would mate in those ways. If not, then they would both learn and experience the other ways to strengthen their bonds. He stayed in the bath, observing Sybil as she went about her tasks. Part of the reason for watching her was curiosity over what she was doing, but mostly was sating his desire to look at her body. He wondered why the humans liked looking at each other so much, and why their bodies were so appealing. He knew that it was normal for him to feel the way he did toward Sybil, for she was his mate. His eyes tracked where her own went, pushing the towel about her body to help remove the excess water. She had left a similar cloth for him to use, so he rose from the bath, standing still for a while to let the water run off him.<br><br>He stepped out, and followed her lead, rubbing his body with the cloth and removed the beaded water on his body. Unlike most other people, he had no sense of self consciousness about his body; so he bent and moved in whatever way was best suited to deal with the water. More than once, he presented himself rather openly as he sought to dry some part of him. One time had his leg bent so that all the muscles were displayed clearly under his skin, while another time gave Sybil more than ample opportunity to gaze on his rear. All the time, his own masculinity hung freely between his legs without any thought that Sybil may be uncomfortable in seeing it displayed so openly and freely.<br><br><em>“Mengar, I need you to wear this. It is only proper to be clothed while we visit Master Reimy…”</em><br><br>Before he was sent, his Master told him that he would need to obey the culture of the human servants, as he would look like one of them most of the time. Mengar was confused about that, not seeing why he needed to be confined to the same limitations that the humans placed on themselves, but his Master commanded, and Mengar would obey. He took the robe, sniffed it several times, his nose scrunching up at the acrid scent that came from lack of needed airing, then pulled it on. Backward. It took a few moments to work out the error, but it took a lot longer for him to actually fix it, and not ruin the robe in the process.<br><br>"We go now."<br><br>He took her right hand with his left, interlacing their fingers as he took hold of her. He knew exactly where to find Master Reimy, but he let Sybil led them to where they would speak with the one who was the highest placed servant of their Master.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>05-10-2014, 16:10:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sybil managed to catch him as he finished with his towel, her eyes unapologetically filling themselves with his naked form as he bent and shifted to rid himself of every last drop. She would have not found herself so bold had he been able to catch her looking and even if he had, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to turn away. Curiosity dictated her actions and the veil of innocence was slowly being lifted so she could look with enlightened eyes. When at last he acknowledged the garment she held up for him and to her relief, tugged it over his head, she felt a small triumph. He struggled within the confines and she wondered if he had ever worn clothing before. Judging by his awkward motions, she would guess not. She watched him with a hint of amusement on her lips and eventually she reached out and helped him where she could so that the material was placed correctly and thus able to fall to his bare ankles. The smile she wore would allow him to know that he had pleased her. <br><br>Her hand relaxed as he took it, surprised to find her fingers working with his to form a strong bond. Gray eyes looked up at him as she lifted their joined hands so she could place a soft kiss to his knuckles. It was simple in action and she didn't allow it to linger, yet she hoped it would be enough for him to know that she was grateful for following her lead. <br><br>They left the room behind as she took him further down the dim hallway. The engulfed sconces rustled as they swept past, bare feet stirring the thin layer of dust along the sides of the floor and disturbing the damp air. Others had come through not too long ago, for the flames that lit their way danced brighter and higher upon the new wood. Sybil wondered what other attributes Mengar would have gained from being part-wolf; would he have better sight than her in the dark? The flash of color she’d seen in his eyes not too long ago would have her imagine that he would, as some parts of his wolf still shone through. Her grip never once faltered along their journey and when they turned a corner that led to a singular wooden door, she used her free hand to knock softly and await permission to enter. <br><br>“Enter,” came the muffled reply she’d been waiting for and she led them into the quiet chamber. Master Reimy could have been in a number of places, but this was his usual haunt. Weathered books filled the shelves so completely that one would only assume there were walls behind them. Ancient history, important records, journals from previous elders that reigned the temple and other pertinent information would be found in the room. In the center would be a long, wooden table with roughly-fashioned chairs sitting along either side of it, meant to hold council or for quiet studying. Master Reimy sat at the table, his arm stretched across it with the palm turned upward while Malkin applied a salve to the raw wrist. Two of her sisters sat on either side of the elder, assisting in any way that they could to make him more comfortable. <br><br>The old man looked up from Malkin’s careful ministrations and over toward the two new presences, his grizzled features softening behind a white beard and heavy brows to behold the savior and his new mate. “And this is the one who saved us? Bring him closer, child, so I may better gaze upon Mytar’s gift.” She glanced up at Mengar and squeezed his hand, more for her own reassurance than his, and brought him to the side of the old man. Her eyes wandered to the wounds caused by the rough manacles supplied by the soldiers who once held him hostage, and she dropped the hand that she’d held so devotedly up to that point. Gray eyes widened in alarm and she moved to step closer to better inspect, but a weathered hand lifted to stop her. “I will be fine,” he gestured toward Malkin to indicate he was in good hands, “I am more interested in <em>him</em>.”&nbsp; He then shifted his gaze from Sybil back to Mengar and slowly bowed his head, white hair falling around his face. “Our Lord did well by us by bringing you. If there is anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, it will be done.”<br><br>After finishing a careful swipe of his finger, Malkin finally looked up, though his gaze held something other than blatant fascination, especially when it was Sybil who he held captive in that stare. It wasn't malicious, but it spoke of the agony he felt and of regret he would forever hold in his heart. He quickly corrected his features so they would become a mask of neutrality once again, for even though he was envious, he held nothing but respect for the savior.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>07-10-2014, 07:47:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar noted that Sybil showed respect for the place where Master Reimy was located. While she didn't use her voice as the wolves did when coming close to the range of another, she made it clear that she was there and sought entry. This made him feel better, knowing that humans had their own ranges, even if smaller than wolves, and that those were respected by those who were of the same... pack.<br><br>“Enter.”<br><br>The place was larger than Sybil's range, which he put down to the rank of the one called Reimy in the pack of the Master's servants. The room was full of a scent that he could not work out, yet it was clear that it came from all the items that filled the sides of Reimy's den. His Master spoke of captured words that outlasted the breath that spoke them. The speaker themselves didn't last as long as some of their words. His Master felt comfortable with this, so Mengar saw nothing wrong with it either, even if it made little sense to him personally.<br><br>Reimy was sitting at a... table, where other servants of their Master tended to wounds get got when captured by the enemies of their Master. Mengar felt the rage start to build at the wounds he saw, the rage directed clearly against those that brought harm to his Master's servants. But he brought it to heel, since there was no one near that he could release his rage upon, and he didn't want any of those he was sent to protect to feel that his anger was directed at them.<br><br>Reimy had all the signs of wisdom brought of age; his fur was silver and white, his skin was full of valleys carved by the years and his eyes, while not carrying the colour of youth, still shone with a light that spoke of an active mind. What he saw of the man's body showed that his strength had waned over his life, but was still strong enough to move by himself.<br><br>“And this is the one who saved us? Bring him closer, child, so I may better gaze upon Mytar’s gift.”<br><br>Mengar followed Sybil's lead, and closed on where Reimy sat. He could feel the man's faith, which was like a candle compared to Sybil's bonfire. Mengar felt that it was wrong for one like him to lead the Servants rather than one like Sybil, but Mytar was pleased with what Reimy had done for their Master, and overlooked the lack of real faith he had for his Master. The man had other gifts that were of greater service than his mediocre faith.<br><br>“I am more interested in <em>him</em>. Our Lord did well by us by bringing you. If there is anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, it will be done.”<br><br>Mengar nodded. "The Child of Faith is to left to serve Mengar while Mengar fulfills our Master's order." To make sure that the one he was referring to was clearly indicated, Mengar grabbed Sybil by the hand, and pulled her forward to stand beside him. "Child of Faith called for help. Mytar sent Mengar to help, but Child of Faith must serve Mengar, as Mytar command. Child of Faith offered self as sacrifice, and our Master accepted."<br><br>Mengar saw the way the other looked at him. He felt so many emotions in the look that it confused Mengar greatly. The other servant, the one that tended Reimy's wounds. He wanted Sybil as a mate, yet he would do nothing that would draw her from Mengar. Mengar also felt the respect he had for the host of Mytar's servant. Mengar's brows closed for a moment, then returned to their normal place.<br><br>"Mengar will stay in den of Child of Faith so Mengar can mate with Child of Faith as is proper and protect her as needed. None shall command Child of Faith but Mengar. Any who try will feel Our Master's wrath."<br><br>Mengar's eyes slowly shifted in colour, becoming a solid gold colour rather than the earthen brown of when he entered. He hunched forward enough to be noticeable as his chest swelled under the effect of the deep intakes of air. His voice became the growl and bark of the wolf as he stared at the head of the Temple dedicated to Mytar. The edge's of the robes strained to stay together as Mengar's body grew and changed. His face elongated, massive fangs extended from his growing snout as fur started to cover his face. His arms bulged with muscles; fingers thickened and grew savage talons. The stitching of the robes finally gave way as Mengar continued to bulk up, and take on a more canine appearance. Thick, coarse fur sprouted over his naked torso as he became a bipedal wolf like monstrosity.<br><br>A bellowed roar shattered the silence in the room before his left hand snapped out and encircled the throat of one of the women beside Reimy. He dragged her over the table and threw her to the ground. He dropped on of his feet on her leg, the bone snapping with ease. The woman's cries of terror merged with those of pain as Mengar flipped her on her back. One talon found her neckline before it tore the front of her robes. When she tried to cover herself, he slapped her arms aside, breaking the skin and staining the floor with her fresh blood. On her right breast was a symbol tattooed to her flesh; the same one that decorated the enemy's shields. He scooped the back of her head in his hand, and lifted her up until her feet were off the floor. The muscles of his arm, already defined by holding her up, started to change, which in turn brought a renewed series of screams and unintelligible sounds from her. He simply stared at her as his fingers increased the pressure on her skull; her reward for her betrayal of his Master's Temple.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>11-10-2014, 18:02:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She suddenly felt coy when he laid out the truth so bluntly to those in the room, causing a heat to start blooming up her neck and across her cheeks. Master Reimy would have already known about what happened in the sanctuary after Mengar had saved the temple, but Malkin? She was unsure if the news had already reached him, wishing to tell him herself to ease the blow. A very naive and foolish desire, but she wanted to protect the ones she loved at all costs, even if it meant she was protecting them from herself. <br><br>After Mengar finished, something in the room changed. She didn’t want to seem alarmed, yet somehow she knew it had something to do with her mate. She turned her attention back to the man at her side and watched in equal parts fascination and horror as amber bled out the brown in his eyes. His flesh rippled and shivered as bone and muscle transformed, ruining the human form in order to create something sinister and… enchanting. She started to back away, not knowing what his intentions were. For just a moment she questioned and retracted some of that unwavering trust she had instilled in him. She was only a human, only a servant and while not fickle, she was keen on surviving just like the others. The robe ripped as Mengar continued to grow and within a matter of moments he was that same monster who had tore through flesh as easily as her hand swiped through water. His enraged roar startled all of them out of their stupor and Sybil was forced to watch as he focused on one of Mytar’s servants and took her across the table to start savaging her. <br><br>“Mengar, no!” Her shout was nearly drowned out by the girl’s screams. She moved around the table while still keeping her distance, not knowing how to stop him. Claws tore through the girl’s robes and Sybil stood there frozen as she saw the marking Mengar sought to lay bare. <br><br>The others had scattered, not knowing what to do or how to help the frightened girl. Malkin had an arm around the elder and helped him to his feet, the two men and remaining girl joining Sybil on the other side of the room. They looked at her as if they waited for her to do something for she was the only one who would have any pull over the beast, but it was too late. The traitor’s head seemed so small in comparison to Mengar’s clawed hand and it didn’t take much for the skull to cave from the pressure. There was a choked cry followed by a loud crack and Sybil was torn between which one would haunt her longer. The body went limp and she almost mourned for her. She had been with them for little over a year, learning of their ways, their secrets, earning their trust. <br><br>She forced herself to turn away from the mess that ensued and toward Reimy who was hanging onto Malkin for support. “Did she hurt you?” Hands started plucking at the elder as she inspected him, all the while getting a glare from her brother servant.<br><br>“Of course she didn’t; I was with him the entire time,” he corrected her coldly, yet his eyes betrayed him, full of fear. <br><br>“Get him out of here. He needs to rest,” she swallowed the comments she wanted to say and wiped a hand across Reimy’s brow. “We’ll need some more hands to clean up the mess.” By the grimace on his face, she knew the elder was in pain. There were some injuries that he tried to hide behind his robes that would take many days of Malkin’s attentive care to heal. The three of them left, leaving Sybil alone with the beast, though he was beginning to be so much more in her eyes. Once again he had saved her people. <em>His</em> people.<br><br>She slowly approached him, keeping her eyes lowered as she was afraid to meet his gaze. Afraid to find that he might be angry with her. She looked away from the girl’s ruined body, instead reaching for him. Fingers sank into his thick fur and she nuzzled her face against him, her tears soaking into his dark pelt. “Please forgive me, my beloved, for ever doubting you. It won’t happen again,” she softly vowed and stayed there, breathing him in, waiting for either his salvation or condemnation.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>14-10-2014, 04:32:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar opened his hand, letting the dead woman fall from his grasp. He sniffed the air, but the smell of fear and death filled the room too much for him to sense anything else. He raised the gore covered hand to his snout, his tongue extending in a broad plane, cleaning what was stuck to his palm in one almost sensual pass. His attention was on cleaning the enemy's stain from his hand and claws that he did not notice the others who were leaving the room, nor the approach of his mate. His lick paused momentarily as he shifted his head to see Sybil grasping at his body, anchoring herself in his thick fur. The clean hand dropped to rest against the small of her back, the tips of his talons pressing through the fabric and indenting her skin.<br><br><em>“Please forgive me, my beloved, for ever doubting you. It won’t happen again.”</em><br><br>His response was more grunt than word, but he soke clearly enough for Sybil to hear, as well as feel, what he said to her.<br><br>"Good."<br><br>He held her while he diligently cleaned his hand. He gave no indication that he enjoyed what he was doing, or if he liked what he was tasting. Once he was pleased that his hand was cleaned, he released Sybil and took a step back from her. His features started to loose their definition as his body seemed to go through the exact opposite of what he had been through to become the creature. Mengar look uncomfortable at times, yet showed no signs of pain as he shrunk to being a normal human once more.<br><br>His eyes, once more the colour of the rich earth tilled by the farmers, looked at Sybil with great intensity. Sybil's hand was held in a strong grip, and through that hold, Mengar led Sybil back to their den. On the way, several of the clerics saw his naked body leading Sybil, some moved to intervene before they remembered who he was, and why he was with her. Few had heard the truth of declaration to the High Priest, but word would spread in time.<br><br>Once in her den, and the door closed, Mengar approached Sybil, his gaze locked on her eyes until their noses almost touched. He was breathing heavy, his pulse easily seen at his throat. He was in his element, raw masculinity wafted off him from his defence of his mate and his Master's other servants. Fresh wisdom echoed in his mind on how he and Sybil could mate again in a way that the humans did. His hands found her shoulders, pressure applied so there was no way Sybil would resist his decision that she would be on her knees before him. His male rod was thickening and lengthening rapidly as he pushed her into the preferred position.<br><br>"Suck it. Swallow seed."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>14-10-2014, 22:35:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was a soft gasp as the sharp tips of his claws pressed against her supple flesh, effectively trapping her to his body. Strangely enough, she felt safe there and her tears stopped flowing while he continued to leisurely clean his hand. What happened terrified her; she nearly lost one of the most important people in her life. She had no memory of any parents or family, just her brethren and the elders who kept their faith inspired. While the thought of losing Master Reimy upset her, there was also the knowledge that the enemy had infiltrated the temple and she had no way of knowing who was the next target. <br><br>The deep cadence of Mengar’s voice rumbled against her face and she watched as he pulled away and shifted back to his human form. It seemed less violent that time, more relaxed. She lifted an arm to her face and wiped the remaining evidence of her sorrow on her sleeve so he would have a moment of privacy. It was difficult to accept that there was a beast inside the man and even more challenging to watch him shift between the forms so naturally. When he was back inside his human skin and turned his attention to her, she nearly took a step backward. Instead, she was frozen in place until he took her hand and led her out into the hallway. She wasn’t sure where he was taking her, but she followed without question. <br><br>She was taken back the same way they came and soon they were back inside the privacy of her chamber. It would be a small relief to the flesh of her cheeks which had flushed from being seen with him while he was naked; something she was suddenly excruciatingly aware of when he started to approach her. She stood her ground when he invaded her space, though she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. Her heart was racing, her breathing heavy, and she felt his body drawing her to him with that single look. His hands were placed on her shoulders and weighed them down and she obliged him. His words made her reluctant; she lacked the knowledge needed to please him.<br><br>She reminded herself that there was only one way to learn…<br><br>Gray eyes looked at the flesh awaiting her attention then rolled back up to meet his gaze. She was nervous, perhaps even scared, but it didn’t stop her from leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on his thigh. Delicate hands roamed up the back of his legs as she bestowed him with one kiss after the next, each one becoming a little bolder and moving inward that much more. She closed her eyes and focused on the scent of him, the taste of him… One of her hands moved around to capture one of his and entwine their fingers, clearly mimicking his earlier action while the other softly touched the root of his desire. She curled her fingers around the base, surprised to find him pulsing in her hand. She cracked her eyes open to look at him closely, but only took a moment to do so before she pointed his length toward her lips and gave it a slow, tantalizing glide of her tongue. <br><br>She immediately realized that she liked it and continued to swirl her tongue around his tip, exploring the soft ridge and tiny crevice with a sudden enthusiasm. It wasn’t so intimidating when she found it was pleasing to her, as well. As she worked on him her body became more relaxed and she was suddenly made aware of a pulse all her own between her thighs. It was subtle at first, then increased in intensity as she parted her lips wider and welcomed him inside. Her tongue stroked him along the bottom as she slipped him inside her mouth, stopping when she felt she could take no more. She created a tight seal with lips and her cheeks caved as she slowly drew on him, savoring him. She exaggerated the process of retracting, wanting to feel every contour and memorize every point that would create a reaction from him only so she could capitalize on it later. <br><br>Sybil looked up at him to see if he was pleased with her actions, then closed them and quickened her pace. There was a soft moan that vibrated from her throat as she took him inside her mouth again and again, the fingers that held his itching to reach under her robe and satisfy her own need… but this intimacy was not about her and she put all of her focus, all of her honest intent and devotion into pleasing her mate. It was a humble tribute for saving precious lives.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>17-10-2014, 10:05:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mytar shared only a fraction of the wisdom Mengar needed. Mengar knew that her mouth would do those things, yet the wisdom never prepared him for the unearthly delights he would get while she gave back to him. Her lips were even softer against his skin than against his lips, as well as much warmer. It felt as though his muscles were going to melt wherever her lips were pressed. Each kiss was more potent than the previous, which scared him slightly that she could render him so feeble so easily. Another part of his mind reveled in the feelings, urging her on within his own mind to do better and render him incapable of anything.<br><br>His attention snapped to where her hand reached for his. He aided her in her intent, feeling the bond strengthening between them with the simple clasp of his hand. The holding of her hand was becoming an intimate act for him, one of the ways he would demonstrate his connection to her, and his affections for her. But his attention shifted rapidly to her other hand and where it had come to rest. His eyes were wide with wonder as he watched, his faith in his Master unshakable even though he had no idea of what was about to happen.<br><br>The passage of her tongue along his length was almost his undoing. The rush of pleasure almost made every muscle relax, and not perform any of the required functions, like keeping his heart beating and his lungs pumping air. He caught himself before he fell on top of her in his weakened state, but his jaw still hung slack as he observed what she was doing for him when his mind functioned enough to permit him to do so. her tongue made so many promises that seemed to be delivered moments later. Mengar was so lost in what Sybil was doing that he could have been slain in a moment, and not have cared one whit.<br><br>If her tongue brought great pleasure, her mouth surpassed it easily. He shuddered and shivered in delight along with the release of a sigh/moan/whimper that was chock full of thankfulness, desire and awe. He felt her lips seal around him, the the pressure that made his eyes roll back into his head, which seemed to drag his head back as well. He summoned all of his will to get his head back up so he could watch the near heavenly joy granted to him by his mate. He wanted to tell her much of how he felt, but his grasp of her language was shoddy at best, and was no where to be seen as she pleased him.<br><br>His hips started to flex in time with her movements, causing him to bump the back of her mouth from time to time. He breathed heavily and erratically while he fought his natural urge to thrust harder, instead to trust his mate to do what would please him. He was acting on the wisdom of Mytar, and he didn't want to do something that made him fail in making best use of the wisdom gained. Yet, his control was fraying around the edges due to Sybil's efforts, and he was feeling himself letting urges take over where his mind needed to remain in charge.<br><br>But Mytar had different plans for his avatar it seemed. He quickly passed the point of no return and found his body remained stationary as he rushed toward his pleasure. His eyes widened as much as they could and his attention was fixed on the face that swallowed his length so well. The pressure built up low in his body, built up to a point where it was starting to get painful. Then the pressure disappeared and he noticed his rod moved upward in a short bob as the released his seed into Sybil's mouth. The ecstasy was overwhelming, eclipsing the first time he mated with Sybil. Mengar could only watch as he continued to show his pleasure by filling her mouth, as well as drawing in air before he passed out from forgetting how to breathe.<br><br>He stared at her in awe of what she did for him. Mengar knew that she was meant for him, beyond mere payment for his duties.<br><br><em>'Next time... lick her between her legs...'</em><br><br>Without thinking about his actions, Mengar nodded, sealing the new words of wisdom in his mind for the time when it would be used.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>19-10-2014, 16:26:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Every precious moment that passed emboldened her and his sounds of pleasure gave her limitless encouragement. Her movements became more urgent and that sweet suction from her mouth intensified as she made love to her mate. Under their clasped hands, she could feel his muscles tensing and it gave her great joy knowing she had that amount of control over him, for she knew that would be one of only a few ways she could. For once <em>she</em> had the upper hand to the beast and she decided that the next time she performed this loving act for him, she would stretch it out as long as she could and truly make him tremble. <br><br>But in that moment, she kept up the momentum. Her hand gripped tighter around him, her lips created a powerful suction and she moved fluidly around his length. There were soft slurping sounds coming from her lovemaking every time she drew back to the tip, only for him to be immediately devoured again. Sybil became ravenous in her need to please him as well as the desire blooming hot and damp between her legs. Gray eyes looked up to see him watching her swallowing his length and right when he tensed she felt the first stream of hot, thick seed spill into her mouth. His was a flavor she never tasted before and found it intoxicating because it was <em>him</em>. She swallowed everything she could while continuing to stroke and pull every last bit from him. A trickle ended up sliding down the corner of her mouth and once she popped him out of her mouth one last time, she wiped it away with the back of her hand.<br><br>Her breaths came deep and heavy as she settled back onto the heels of her feet and looked up at him. Never had she wanted a man so powerfully in her life at that point. Every corner of her being thrummed with the need for him to take her, but she knew it would be regretted on her part later. The tenderness of their first time was still there, though it was quickly being surpassed with an ache that had nothing to do with pain. <br><br>She pulled her hand out of his; instead, taking it in both of her hands so she could plant a few warm kisses to his knuckles. She had a great respect for it. It had the ability to rend flesh from bone and yet do something as intimate as holding hers or brushing the hair from her face… or caressing her bare skin. A warm smile was offered up to him before she climbed back to her feet. Her legs were weak and her knees were sore, but it was a small price to pay to witness the pleasured look on Mengar’s face as he released.<br><br>“I need to check on Master Reimy,” she said while going to the chest to retrieve yet another robe for him. “You may come if you wish or you can explore the temple. This is your home now; you might as well get to know the place.” She walked over to him with the black garment tucked in the corner of her arm. “Try not to ruin this one?” The question was playful and before she pressed it into his hands she lifted onto her toes and kissed his jaw. He could ruin a thousand robes if he wanted because he saved that many lives alone when he came to them… When he came to her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>23-10-2014, 02:42:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar was not sure of how he knew, but he was aware that Sybil had not mated with anyone else, and had no real knowledge of how humans showed their affection to their mate. Yet, he also knew that what happened between them was powerful, something that only happened with doing many times. Sybil knew what made Mengar happiest when mating that way, and Mengar only knew when it happened. His Master had blessed Mengar for his task, and Mengar would ensure that he did his utmost best for his Master, to repay Him for his generosity.<br><br>But even with the body's poor sense of smell, he could pick up on Sybil's own feelings on what had happened between them. Her aroma was thick, heavy with her desire for him, and his desire for her, recently slaked, was growing stronger with every breath of her own primal calling scent. But he focused on the movement of the hand that held his through their lovemaking. She released her hand, only to let it take hold of his hand by both of hers. He was confused by her actions until she kissed his knuckles in a way he could only think of as respectful &amp; loving.<br><br>He kept his hand still while she slowly gained her feet, giving her the support she needed. While she appeared to be frailer than most humans, Mengar could see that there was more to her than most would ever see or even know. She strength laid in her mind and her heart. He felt her endearment to another of Mytar's servants, one that if neither were servants, she would have bonded with him. He felt her strong feelings for the other man, but she didn't betray her Master to follow the strong callings of her heart. That strength would never been seen by others.<br><br><em>“I need to check on Master Reimy.”</em><br><br>Mengar grunted in response, his eyes casually drifting over Sybil's hidden form as she went to the chest, and took out another robe.<br><br><em>“You may come if you wish or you can explore the temple. This is your home now; you might as well get to know the place.”</em><br><br>Mengar frowned. It wasn't her declaration that the Temple would be his home that created the furrows in his forehead, it was her thought that he didn't know the layout of the Temple. He knew everything about the layout of the temple, including the passageways that had been forgotten by Mytar's servants. It would not be an exploration, it would be merely walking places that he already knew were there.<br><br><em>“Try not to ruin this one?”</em><br><br>Mengar still had problems understanding tone of voice when it was used to change the meaning of what was being said. While Sybil was being playful, and teasing him a little, he only heard her words. When she pressed the cloth into his hands, he nodded to her solemnly. When he felt the soft press of her lips against his jaw, a creeping tide of red crossed his face and he stared at the robes he was holding. He waited patiently until Sybil left before he finally started to move again.<br><br>The robe was placed on the bed, and Mengar walked out of Sybil's den, heading to the top of the great stairs; the place where Father Reimy had been bound prior to his death. Most of the servants of his Master that Mengar passed looked shocked at seeing a naked man walk through their midst. The shock passed swiftly, being replaced by fear as the knowledge of who the naked man actually was rushed to the surface. Mengar never cared for their reactions, because the Gods created them without any coverings, so there was no shame in seeing the fullness of the Gods' greatest work.<br><br>He reached the edge of the courtyard that was at the top of the Great Stairs. Mengar looked at the town below that supported the temple with food and services that the Temple, the servants and pilgrims all needed. He smelled the air of those living below, learning much from the breeze that drifted up the mountain's side. Below, he still saw the damage the enemy wrought on the town, and he smelled the pyre for the many dead.<br><br>The wind shifted, bringing news of the enemy themselves. They had been bloodied, but they still numbered many, enough to make another attack on the temple. Fear was carried on the winds, but so was anger at their defeat. Mengar turned his head toward where the enemy had gathered. He sucked in the air again, reading it like a sign hanging from a shopfront. He expelled the air, and grinned the same way wolves did, and he loped down the Great Stairs, through the town and into the woods that separated the town and the encamped army.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>26-10-2014, 16:14:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sybil wasted no time leaving Mengar to his own devices. There was a quick squeeze to his arm before she left him to his solitude and as she walked down another series of hallways, she was surprised to find her already yearning to return to him. Those emotions had to be set aside for the time being; there were things that needed to be done. She had procured a mate which was almost unheard of for the servants of Myrar, and while she would need to learn how to handle both duties, the world would not stop and wait for her to catch up. When asked for her Lord’s intervention, she hadn’t expected the type of salvation that was bestowed upon her. She would have sacrificed her life, her happiness, anything that he would have deemed worthy… and it seemed she did sacrifice all of that, only in a way she wouldn’t have predicted.<br><br>Footsteps fell with determination as she spotted the wooden door at the end of the hallway. Her first priority was to check on Reimy and make sure he came away unscathed. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Malkin, but they all had trusted the girl who sought to betray them and while sitting so close, she could have done damage that had gone undetected. <br><br>She rapped on the door; the loud echo piercing the quiet of the hallway. Dread coiled within her and prompted that she glance over her shoulder to ensure she was alone. Satisfied that she was, she wondered who else might be a traitor in their midst and if so, would they be able to discover them? The latch clicked on the other side and the door creaked open to reveal a dark shape. The weary eyes gazing back regarded her for a moment and she grew agitated. <br><br>“Are you going to let me in, Malkin, or will I have to force my way in?” Gray eyes reflected her displeasure which soon eased as the door widened and the figure stepped aside to allow her entrance.<br><br>“Quiet, Sybil. He is resting,” Malkin whispered next to her ear. He was close enough for her to feel his heat and she knew he was angry. There was much left unsaid between them and she wasn’t sure if there would ever be a good time to sit and discuss each point. He would simply have to let her go and accept that she never belonged to him and never would; a fact that she would have to accept, herself. <br><br>He gently took her hand and led her toward the canopied bed, then swept out his open hand to invite her to look. She took a step forward and slowly brushed the heavy curtain aside to witness the elderly man sleeping soundly. It was difficult to detect with the little light that penetrated the darkness, but in the thickness of his beard there was a content smile on his lips. Reimy knew he was safe and that they would protect him at all costs. To her, it wasn’t even a question to be entertained. <br><br>The curtain fell closed as she turned away, satisfied that he was safe. For now. She looked up at Malkin, still standing close yet not enough to crowd her, and offered a reassuring smile. His stern expression didn’t change, though it seemed to release some tension along the edges. “I know he is in good hands. He means more to the both of us than we could ever imagine and Mytar willing, still has a few good years left.” <br><br>He didn’t say anything. His eyes were unfocused as if he were coming to a decision and before she could question him, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her against him. It was only an embrace and she couldn’t help but sink into him and hold him close. Fingers sifted through his raven hair for reassurance, letting him know in her own way that he could tear down the walls and be himself. Malkin had always been the strong one and would always suffer in silence, but in private she acknowledged his pain and helped alleviate it. <br><br>“There has been word sent from the king,” he said after kissing the top of her head and pulling away. “The Severassi have been weakened by fear, but their numbers are slowly closing in again. They were spotted in the south and the king is worried that they will pour in any day to start war.” His features were pained as he held back his own thoughts, not wanting her to see the trepidation skirting along his conscience. “They haven’t stated any demands yet, but I know they think we are heathens who worship a barbaric god.” He sighed and shook his head. The motives for the army was unpredictable and for a small kingdom who never did any harm, it was all a surprise.<br><br>“Don’t fear, Malkin. Mytar will protect us through his champion. And if it is blood they want, they will be forced to drink their own.” The look in her eyes made his own widen and he pulled her back to him, wondering where her innocence had gone.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>29-10-2014, 03:57:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The night smelt of smoke, fear, blood and death. Mengar limped back toward the temple. His right arm, barely able to move, had been locked in place to hold his guts in, while his left arm and leg moved him along in a near crab like manner, the right leg barely working at all. Large parts of his face were missing fur and skin; muscle and bone showing to the moonlight. He had little hope of evading the enemy, his only hope was that he had hurt them badly enough to make them decide to let him run off a die in the woods. Little did they know that if they left him be, he would live long enough to escape. After that, it was Mytar's desire whether he lived beyond that.<br><br>He paused for a moment, to regather his breath and listen for pursuit. He remained crouched, grimacing in pain and berating himself for being a fool.<br><br><em>'Cowards! They run before the might of Mytar's Chosen.' Bodies flew through the air like leaves on the wind as he charged through the camp, killing without thought. Men screamed like newborns and ran like children before him. He roared in triumph, only to literally have it cut short by an axe blow to his gut.</em><br><br>Megar winced as his mind recalled the way the metal cut his skin. The blade didn't go deep, but it was able to do more harm to him than the normal weapons. More of the axe men ran forward, and it was a race to see who could hit him before he killed them. There were a few men who lived after they struck him, and once some of his wounds were opened, the plain weapons managed to do him harm too. Mengar gritted his teeth as he got back into a more mobile position, and continued his way back to the temple.<br><br>Mengar prayed to Mytar for forgiveness over his foolishness in attacking the camp rashly. The lessons carved into his body would take a long time to forget. He fought like a man, not like the wolf, nor even the owl, and he almost paid the price. No, next time would be a different battle, one that he would make sure that he won, not his Master's enemies. The only saving grace was the slaughter he left behind, which may have bought enough time for him to heal before they struck again. The Alpha of the lands needed to do more to protect his range from the intruders.<br><br><div align="center">~||~</div><br>The Great Stairs had become an almost insurmountable obstacle for Mengar. Two thirds the way up, his right leg failed him, and only through the benevolence of Mytar, Mengar managed to just fall flat on his face, and not tumble down the stairs. His howl of pain echoed through the valley as his damaged gut was brutalized by the hard stone stairs. But ever the loyal servant, Mengar lifted himself enough and dragged his maimed body up one stair and a time, each punctuated by a deep growl of anger, at himself for allowing him to be wounded so badly. Each step was a barrier for him to overcome, each was completed with a sincere prayer of thanks to his Master for giving him the strength to deal with his pain. The few that came to see what was happening kept their distance, fearful that the wounded creature might attack them if they went to his aid, yet they could not depart and just leave him. Torn between the conflicting urges, they remained still, praying to Mytar for guidance.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>06-11-2014, 23:56:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the news came of Mengar’s plight, Sybil was with Malkin and a few other servants in the main sanctuary, quietly lighting candles to start a vigil that would span over a few hours as a way to pay homage to the God of Night. It had been Master Reimy’s idea and, grateful that it was Mytar’s own mercy that saved the elder, they were more than eager to spread the word and prepare for the impromptu ritual. It was recognized that Sybil was the ultimate sacrifice to their Lord, but they never wanted there to be any question that they rest of the servants were anything but the devout disciples. <br><br>Deep inside the temple the cry was lost, but to those carrying out various tasks near the entrance, its sorrow was felt down to the very marrow of their bones. A few souls rushed out to the stairs and looked down to witness the champion badly injured. One managed to tear himself away from the sight to alert the beast’s mate, his legs carrying him quickly to the sanctuary that wafted with incense. The walls danced violently with the shadows as the candles on the altar swayed from the sudden gust of wind caused by the door being swung open with a sense of urgency. “Sybil, Sybil! The Champion… he’s hurt!” <br><br>She was in the middle of holding a flame to a fresh wick when he came in, and she looked up at him with concern. She was instantly on her feet, blowing out the flame yearning to spread its heat elsewhere but would never get the chance. “Malkin, Ashlan, I need you to come with me,” she took the only two men out of the handful of servants with her as they quickly followed the messenger out of the mouth of the temple to witness the pitiful sight before them. For a moment all she could do was stare in shock at the sight of her mate in such disrepair, her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach at the thought of losing him. She’d just started the journey of exploring him, getting to know him. He was a gift that could never be replaced and he was about to be ripped out of her fingers before she ever truly enjoyed him. <br><br>Sybil filled her hands with the material of her robes and lifted them as she started to descend, too swift for Malkin to reach out and stop her.<br><br>“Be careful, Sy--,” he started.<br><br>“Don’t just stand there! <em>Help</em> me!” She shouted over her shoulder without breaking her steady stride.<br><br>She had wondered where Mengar went off to. After leaving Reimy’s side, she went in search of her mate to see if he wanted to eat a meal together. There was no sign of him anywhere in the temple, and when asked, nobody had seen him leave save for a select few, but after leaving the temple he could have gone anywhere. <br><br>She was upon him in no time, a hand gently settling on his shoulder while she spoke to him in a calm voice in an attempt to sooth, “I’m here, my beloved. There is but a few more steps to overcome and you will be safe inside.” She could see the bits of damage here and there by the light of the moon, even see the glistening on his fur which indicated he was bleeding. She looked up to see Malkin and Ashlan making their way down the stairs, a little reluctant to approach without knowing what the injured beast would do. “Kellen,” she spoke to the one who had informed her, “Alert the others and prepare the necessary items for his care. Do it quickly.” Her otherwise soft voice was stern and held no room for argument. The man simply nodded and ran back inside to do her bidding. <br><br>“Mengar, let us help you get up the stairs,” she studied him, trying to find the best way to lend her aid. She noticed his arm was frozen against his side, making her suspect he was nursing an injury. Whatever he was covering with his clawed hand, she had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy to repair. <br><br>The other two had joined them, waiting for an indicator that it was okay for them to touch him, and where.<br><br>“To the infirmary; we’ll need everything in our possession to help him, I’m afraid.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>13-11-2014, 01:38:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar was drifting into and out of consciousness as he laid on the stairs. The loss of blood and pain had all caused him to go into shock, which muddled his mind greatly. As such, he noticed from time to time that he heard what he thought were voices, but the sounds were too far away from him to understand. Mengar was trying to rally his strength to continue his trek back to the Holy Place, so he could return to Mytar's Grace near to where His presence was strongest.<br><br>His weakening eyes looked up, and saw the most delightful sight, that of Mytar's wolf form padding toward him. All of Mengar's worries faded in the holy nimbus that enshrouded the perfect wolf as it approached. In that moment, Mengar knew he had been forgiven for his foolishness, and would return to his proper place in Mytar's realm. Yet, it puzzled him when the Wolf raised a paw, and rested it on his shoulder. The contact was familiar, welcome and relieving, while still not what he thought of as normal. Again, there was a voice, distant, barely heard, yet still brought further calm to his tortured body. He turned his eyes to the Wolf once more, his soul begging to be allowed to return with Him to His realm once more. The Wolf, the expression unchanged, posture statue like, still denied his request in a way that Mengar knew that he had been told.<br><br>The Wolf brought its muzzle beneath Mengar's good arm, enabling him to rise onto his rear legs, unsteadily wavering while the Wolf got into the proper spot. Mengar nodded, knowing that he was told that he still needed to serve besides the other servants, that his task was not yet complete. Mengar was vaguely aware of hands helping him remain stable while the remaining steps were overcome, and the coolness of the main balcony eased his now fevered skin. He was moving to Sybil's den, yet the Wolf determined another path, and it was not for him to counter the wisdom of his Master. Where he was taken, and how long it took, Mengar had no knowledge. He was loosing out to his wounds, and it was taking his mind with it.<br><br>He was laid down on something not like the floor and he turned to look at the Wolf once more. It radiated approval, and pleasure, then faded from his view. With the departure, whatever held him in the blessed form was gone, and his body faded back to being human again. Along with that shape, his pain threshold dropped to normal, bringing forth a long scream of agony until his lungs were emptied. Refilling them brought more pain, as did the confusion over whether to continue breathing in, of scream in pain once more.<br><br>Eyes closed to help block out his pain, Mengar gained control over himself one last time before the darkness claimed him. All his thoughts were focused on one word, and speaking it clearly so all would hear and know.<br><br>"SYBIL!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>16-11-2014, 18:04:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was with great care and attention that the two men took hold of the beast and gently guided him up the rest of his journey. Sybil stayed in front, fretting about where he would need her the most. The wound to his gut looked angry and it was not one that a common man would survive from. She hoped that Mytar would continue to look after his vessel and keep him safe, and maybe even grant her with the strength she needed to see them through. So many questions came to the forefront of her mind; none of them would be satisfied with an immediate answer, not until he was tended to and fully rested. <br><br>At the top of the stairs they were greeted with many concerned faces. It was by Kellen’s word that the others had been notified and were prepared to do anything to save the one who had saved them. They were all ready to express their gratitude the only way they knew how. Many came forward, touching and coaxing Mengar toward the room where he would be sewn up and cared for. There was no time to wrap him, so they did their best to leave his arms alone as that was the only thing that held him together. Upon entering the room, three other servants were inside, just finishing the preparation of a bed to offer a bit of comfort to the champion. He was then guided down onto the soft mattress, hands doing their best to lower his weight so he would not have to do it alone. <br><br>Sybil nudged a few others out of the way so she could be at his side. She started to worry how to proceed when he began to transform back into his human skin. The agonized screams made her cringe as they filled her ears one after the other, the last one being of her name. “I am here, my beloved, I am here…,” her cheeks were once again wet from her sorrow and she wiped a hand across his brow to push tangled hair away from his damp skin. It was Mytar’s mercy that stole Mengar’s consciousness and from there they were able to proceed.<br><br>Malkin joined her while two others knelt on the opposite side of the bed and together they treated his wounds. The first being his gut was the worst and they cleaned the area of any dirt and debris they could detect before slowly, gently tucking the exposed organs back inside of his body. It was Sybil that worked with the needle to close him up. The severe look never left her features as she concentrated, as if it was the most important task she would ever complete in her life. In a way it was, having to do everything in her power to save her mate, her gift. When it was finished, the pile of soiled and bloody rags were taken away as well as all their instruments to be cleaned and stored for a time when they would be needed again. <br><br>She then dismissed the others, even Malkin who tried to linger as the others filed out. She wanted to be alone with him, to pray to Mytar for his blessing on her work and hope that it would be enough. He was given a sheet to cover with and a hand slipped under it to entwine with his own that rested at his side.<br><br>Hours passed and her grip loosened once sleep finally claimed her, her head resting atop the crook of her elbow that was positioned on the edge of the bed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>20-11-2014, 01:29:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>Mengar walked a darkness so complete that his eyes could not make out his hand a fraction of any inch before his face. He was scared, thinking that this was the place the dead went once their bodies held them no more. He swept his arm about him with care, in case there was something within his reach. He shuffled aimlessly, the ground beneath him reasonably flat, and there was nothing that he came into contact with as he moved.<br><br>He stopped, instinct so deep that it was almost hardwired into his brain, and worked without any input from the rest of his brain. He was not alone, and the one that was with him was a predator. Mengar stifled a whimper as he held himself still, his eyes closed so he could concentrate on listening for whatever he knew was out there. While his ears strained to hear, Mengar prayed that it was all a dream, and he would wake up and go about another day of felling trees.<br><br>"Not a dream. But you walk where dreams are made."<br><br>Mengar jumped and yelped, spinning to face where he thought the voice came from. As his panic dropped from its peak, he felt an ache in his belly. "Who are you, and where are you?" He didn't want to voice the final question, 'What are you?'<br><br>From the darkness, a shadowy form began to glow, increasingly separating itself from the void they were in, until its outline was a golden nimbus. Mengar looked at the spectral wolf, and wished that it remained a disembodied voice.<br><br>"This One is one of pack of Mytar, and the only name This One has is name of you. Mengar."<br><br>"Why am I here?" He winced from a sharp pain that lanced his lower body. "Are you doing this to me?"<br><br>"Here because there is need to talk. We...? are wounded from battle. More reason to talk." Mengar looked on in confusion. "Mytar's temple is under attack from those that would see Mytar severed from world. A servant, Child of Faith, offered sacrifice to save Temple and people. Mytar send This One to Mengar's body so together can fight enemies.<br><br>"Mengar not agree, so joining is... off. None other can host This One, and be helpful. Need Mengar to agree, make joining right. Help Mytar better."<br><br>"Why? Why should I let you take me over like that?"<br><br>"Not take over. Be like pack. Work together, like one. Why do this? Be rewarded is why. Child of Faith is Mengar's reward. Heart opened to you already. Too, if join well, Mengar will be able to be Mengar more than This One."<br><br>"I... I don't know... if I can."<br><br>"Do so, lest we die before it is time."</em><br><br>Mengar's eyes opened, showing little focus. His lips moved, the dry skin cracking with small pinpricks of pain. It took several attempts before he was able to draw enough breath to actually speak.<br><br>"Sybil," he croaked, barely above a whisper. "Mate... help... water."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>24-11-2014, 02:24:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sybil did not immediately stir at his strained request. Dreams had claimed her just as thoroughly as they did him, though hers were only spurned by the musings of her own mind. Her body had relaxed to the point that one wrong move and she would collapse on the floor, but deep in her subconscious she stayed in position just so she could be near him. Endless moments lingered in the air after his words were spoken and finally her eyes slowly parted to reveal a world both familiar and changed. It took a few heartbeats to remember where she was and why, and once the realization dawned on her she immediately straightened. Her back was stiff and ached like the devil, causing her hiss of pain to echo in the quiet of the room. The muscles in her neck hurt the worst, but it was all worth it in the end. <br><br>She noticed that he was awake and slowly unfolded her limbs so she could stand. The urge to look him over warred with the impulse to provide for him. She would see to his needs first, of course, rather than simply resolve her own concerns. She padded to the table where a tray of bread and cheese had been left, along with a tankard of water and two glasses. Filling one, she brought it along with the tray over to him and took her former position at his side. Sybil leaned close, one hand wiping the hair from his brow before settling her hand upon it while the other put the rim of the glass to his lips and slowly tilted it. <br><br>“Mytar was watching over you, my beloved, for I have never seen a man survive such an injury,” she whispered as she allowed him to drink his fill, though not too fast lest he get sick. She waited until he indicated he was done before setting the glass down next to her. Before she offered him any food, she needed to see her work on his wound. He didn’t seem to have a fever which was a good omen. Hands gently folded the sheet back from his torso, just enough so she could have a good look at the stitchwork. The flesh wasn’t inflamed or putting off any heat and she covered him back up, satisfied. <br><br>Turning back to him, she took a deep breath to steady her emotions. “Promise me you’ll not leave again without warning me? I searched everywhere for you earlier,” she shook her head and looked down at the plate of food. “Are you hungry?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>04-12-2014, 01:32:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Water never tasted so good in his life before, but then he had never been so close to death before in his life. But Sybil had been sitting at his side all of the time, and the thought of her being so concerned for him made him feel bad. But even through the concern, he could see her beauty, and understand, in part, her being his reward.<br><br><em>“Mytar was watching over you, my beloved, for I have never seen a man survive such an injury.”</em> He almost choked over the initial part of what she said. Mytar left him to his own devices, which is how he ended up where he was and how he was. But they were both wise enough to know how much water he was able to safely drink. He watched in silence as Sybil checked his wounds. As if her gaze brought life back to the parts of his body she looked at, he could feel the stitches that held his body together, and he had the feeling that the work he assumed she had done would return him to full health.<br><br><em>“Promise me you’ll not leave again without warning me? I searched everywhere for you earlier.”</em><br><br>"Sorry." The word was hoarse and whispered, plus it brought a grimace of pain.<br><br><em>“Are you hungry?”</em><br><br>Mengar shook his head slowly, before bringing it to rest so he looked directly at her. There was something different about his gaze, as if it lacked something that was normally visible. Apart from the mysterious factor that was missing, there was nothing else different or wrong. The gaze was firm, and the eyes looked alight and alive.<br><br>"Sybil," he paused as he controlled his pain. "I need... to know... how you feel... about me. Do you... like me? Im-portant."<br><br>He closed his eyes while the agony of his talking rolled over him and the faded away, the breathing shallow, deliberate and steady. When they opened, his eyes were pleading with her, for what, it was hard to say. In truth, he was scared of her answer. Scared that she was going to say she had no feelings for him, while also scared that she did have feelings for him. Neither did he know what answer he wanted from her, what would soothe his own emotional turmoil over what had happened to him; to them. Could he argue against the will of a God, and survive, let alone win? Or would he be a faithful man, and accept this God's decrees, and make the most of what was given.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 20:45:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He might have denied the food left for them, but her stomach growled with need. She took the chunk of bread and began to break it in half, scattering crumbs everywhere. From there, she started to tear the one half into smaller, bite-sized pieces in case he changed his mind. She wanted to make it as easy and manageable for him as possible. Sybil was so focused on the task at hand that she never looked up when he initially started to speak. Content to listen to him in the beginning until he phrased his last word. It had a note of urgency laced with the within the agony held within his voice. <br><br>She glanced up at him in time to see his eyes close as he waited for the pain to subside. The plate was set on the floor next to her and she was back on her knees, caressing a hand in a soothing gesture down his cheek. She gazed into his eyes, her sudden concern reflecting in her own gray pools. The question itself was odd and since he was put into her life just the day prior, she never stopped to think about her feelings toward him. There were a few moments of silence as she thought about his question. He deserved to know the truth, but what exactly was the truth? <br><br>She didn’t know. It was too soon to love him, surely. Her devotion was transparent, but her heart was heavily guarded. <br><br>“You are the champion, Mengar. I am grateful for what you have done for us and I will do anything you ask,” she paused, knowing that wasn’t really the answer he sought. It wouldn’t satisfy the posed question, but how did she feel about him? She would have given herself to him regardless of her feelings toward him, but that he wasn’t cruel made it easier to deal with their situation. “I do like you, my beloved, at least what I have seen. You are both beast and man, different from what we are used to, with a desire for justice.” She didn’t know what else to say, so she bent her head over him and pressed her lips to his in a brief, yet warm kiss. <br><br>“You need to rest if you are going to heal. Put these foolish thoughts aside and sleep.” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>19-12-2014, 02:52:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar listened to her words, using all of his energy to focus on them, and make sure that he heard everything she said, as well as how she said it. He heard her pauses, the doubts in her soul reflected in the tone of her voice.<br><br><em>“You are the champion, Mengar. I am grateful for what you have done for us and I will do anything you ask. I do like you, my beloved, at least what I have seen. You are both beast and man, different from what we are used to, with a desire for justice.”</em><br><br>He felt the frustration rise within him, threatening to bring Mytar's Mengar to the surface, but he needed to keep the other part of him at bay for longer, and to do that he needed to remain calmer. Fortunately, the kiss Sybil left on his lips was enough to blow away the frustration like dust. Her kiss felt marvelous, and he wanted to feel the press of her lips again.<br><br><em>“You need to rest if you are going to heal. Put these foolish thoughts aside and sleep.”</em><br><br>His arm shot up and grabbed hers, holding it with what little strength he was able to muster. His eyes were fully open, a fire lighting them from deep within. he looked straight into her eyes, his gaze never shifting as he all but pierced her with it.<br><br>"Not foolish thoughts. Important thoughts." He grimaced in pain, and his grip weakened to a feeble hold that barely kept his hand in place. "Sybil, I need to know. Must know to survive... this. Truth only, no matter... what it is." The fire dimmed, to leave him with a look that pleaded from the depth of his heart.<br><br>"Please," he whispered.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>31-12-2014, 23:05:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was just about to slip away from him when he grabbed her, his desperate grip matching the plea within his eyes. Once again she was captive to his desire, lost in the swirling emotions in his gaze. Realizing the depth of his need, she paused, hovering above him while he spoke. There was strain in his voice and it was clear it pained him to speak, making what he had to say all the more important to her. <br><br>Lost for words, Sybil wasn’t sure how to give him what he wanted. She leaned down, careful so her weight didn’t settle upon him in any way that would affect his wounds or cause him further anguish. “Mengar,” she whispered before planting another kiss on his lips. It seemed to ease him previously and it was her hope that she would accomplish the same feat again. “How I feel about you…,” she trailed off, considering her feelings and finding them buried deep in herself. She was almost ashamed for what she was about to say, fearful that it revealed a nature that was suppressed for years under worship and selfless sacrifice. <br><br>“I want you. I want you to feel better soon so I can be with you, like mates should. I want to get to know you, learn who you were before you came here. What your favorite story is, your favorite food. I know there are some barriers between us, but they will break away once we get to know each other better. If I didn’t like you, I don’t think I would want you so badly…”<br><br>Sybil gave him one last kiss, only she took her time with that one. Her lips rubbed against his, urging his to open so she could have a small taste of him. If only one were enough. She kissed him until she felt her lips warming and a need make itself known under her robes. It was then that she pulled away, hoping her answer was sufficient for him. There really wasn’t much left she could say that would convince him should he need more. <br><br>“That is the whole truth, Mengar.” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>01-01-2015, 06:13:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>“Mengar. How I feel about you…”</em><br><br>Her voice was soft, sounded as if it were spoken miles from where he was, carried if only just on the winds that caressed his ears. Even better, it was punctuated by a kiss that sent a gentle, welcomed heat through his body.<br><br><em>“I want you. I want you to feel better soon so I can be with you, like mates should. I want to get to know you, learn who you were before you came here. What your favorite story is, your favorite food. I know there are some barriers between us, but they will break away once we get to know each other better. If I didn’t like you, I don’t think I would want you so badly…”</em><br><br>The words fell into his mind, drawing much to them as they sank deeper than his mere home of his thoughts. He felt them pass into his soul. He then felt the press of her lips against his, bring forth a slight sigh, a part of lips that Sybil took full advantage of. The way her lips touched his spoke more clearly to him than her words, and in that moment, he knew the truth to the answer of the most important question of his life.<br><br><em>“That is the whole truth, Mengar.”</em><br><br>He could not speak any further, as his body slipped again into the near dreamless state where he knew he would heal, a smile telling her that he was pleased with her answer.<br><br><br><em>Mengar stood before the wolf that bore his name too. The massive lupus canted his head, clearly waiting for the human Mengar to speak.<br><br>"I understand know. Sybil desires me, maybe even loves me. She doesn't feel forced into it."<br><br>"That One was forced, but That One accepted duties place by our Master. With acceptance, comes reward. What better reward for sacrifice than happiness? Reward same for This One too. Accept duty, gain happiness."<br><br>Mengar nodded slowly. A shadow image of Sybil formed at the edge of his vision. She was beautiful, and such a nice person. He didn't like that she was forced to do something against her well, but then maybe it wasn't against her will. But what was done was done, and could not be changed.<br><br>"What if I agree to have you within me?"<br><br>"Then those that our Master protects will be safer, and those who do their duties will be rewarded. If This One accepts, then duty becomes easier and success more likely."<br><br>"Many people will die if I don't accept?"<br><br>The lupus nodded slowly.<br><br>"Then, as Mytar wills it, I will accept the duty laid upon me, not for the reward, but to save the lives of those who would die."<br><br>The wolf padded over to Mengar, rising to place both forepaws on his shoulders. Golden eyes looked into his brown. "Reward given, more for reason in heart."<br><br>The wolf and Mengar merged until there was the warform standing in their place. The huge muzzle was lifted as high as the body would allow, a long, joyous howl echoed far and wide. <br><br>Mytar smiled.</em><br><br><br>In the time it took the sun to sink beneath the edge of the world, Mengar was sitting upright, still pained, yet his wounds were healing at a remarkable rate. He staggered to the door of the room where he rested, opened it and slowed the first servant of Mytar that passed.<br><br>"Tell the Child of Faith, Sybil, that her mate wishes to see her. And bring food."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>02-01-2015, 01:08:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She watched sleep claim him and once she realized he was at peace, she gave a gentle stroke to his cheek and left him to the mercy of his dreams. It pained her to leave his side when he was in such a fragile state. If only she didn’t have other obligations or duties that needed attention. She convinced herself that there was little else she could do for him; she’d provided the best care that was humanly possible. The rest was now up to him. <br><br>The hours passed by blessedly without incident. Sybil found time to dedicate a vigil for Mytar in the inner sanctuary, revisit her chamber for a quiet bath and end her evening in Master Reimy’s private quarters. Malkin was with them for a while, then left so she could have some time alone with the elder. His wounds were healing nicely, though his energy still seemed depleted. Those who cared for him during the day made sure he got out of his bed and walked around to keep the circulation strong in his limbs. Unfortunately, those exercises didn’t last long before he had to retire and rest. Sybil worried his days were growing shorter and while he was destined for a better place, she couldn’t help but feel the pain of her loss when the time came for him to pass. Reimy had drifted off to sleep, his hand that was wrapped around hers steadily loosened its grip as he relaxed. <br><br>He, too, was left alone so he could dream peacefully. She was making her way down one of the passageways when one of the other priestesses turned a corner and came to her side. “The champion is awake and is asking for you. He is walking around on his own and has requested food.” <br><br>She had hoped he would rest longer to regain his strength and while she wasn’t immediately alarmed, she still felt the urge to rush toward where the priestess had just came. “Bring something plain and easy on the stomach,” she called over her shoulder before turning the corner. <br><br>Sybil practically ran down the hallway, her slippered feet thumping on the grainy stones as she navigated her way toward his room. With the wounds that he suffered, he shouldn’t be able to walk around freely. The risk of injuring himself was too great and she was cursing herself for not staying with him. <br><br>The wooden door was in sight and she made one final bound before she was standing before it. There was no time for knocking, she simply threw open the door and looked around for her mate. <br><br>“Mengar? Are you alright?” She called, her heart pumping to an anxious beat inside her chest. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>04-01-2015, 06:03:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar was fully aware that his wounds were healing faster than a normal person would. When he was still, and quiet, he could feel the damage repairing itself, making him whole once more. It was a wise thing to have if he was to fight for his Master against numbers that could still bring him down if he was not wise in battle. But, he knew better now, he could understand the way of the wolf when the wolf fought. He tried to fight like a human, and failed. Now, he would embrace his inner wolf, and he would follow the instincts that were older than humans.<br><br>Even the movements of his body in human form were more fluid and graceful. Being a tree feller made one gain powerful muscles, but that made the body move more stiffly. He still carried the same bulk, but it didn't make it harder to move as it once had. He even managed to pull his arms back behind him further than he had been able to. It caused him to grunt in pain, and he shook his head at the foolishness of trying to move himself in that way.<br><br>But the strangest thing of all was how he was thinking. Mengar knew that the servant of Mytar was in control when he first arrived, and that he was able to think for himself after he was wounded. But his thoughts were strange, as were his feelings. It was most puzzling, and one that would keep philosophers arguing for centuries over what had happened and why.<br><br>He heard her hurried footfalls, and he smiled as they grew louder. The thought of her brought him a calmness that he liked, as well as other feelings that felt good too. He caught her scent when she was on the other side of the door, and he felt bad about the fear he could detect from her. The way the door was thrown open, and how she stormed in made him feel embarrassed that he caused her such distress.<br><br><em>“Mengar? Are you alright?”</em><br><br>He saw the effects of her hammering heart in her neck, as well as hearing it thumping heavily in her chest. His head lazily leaned to one side, and he walked over to her, a little gingerly, and took her into his arms. He held her against the side that was not wounded, letting his newly discovered love for her drift across from him to her.<br><br>"I am fine, mate. Mytar has blessed me so that I heal swiftly. By sun's rise, I will be at full health again. Thank you... love, for saving my life."<br><br>When he bent to kiss her, he winced a few times, but would not allow himself to be deterred from tasting his mate's lips again. It was not a graceful kiss, but it was much better than the previous ones, yet not lacking in the enthusiasm he felt for Sybil. As he kissed her, he felt the bond that had been forged between them, between Mengar the human and Sybil. He wasn't sure if it was forged by the God himself, or it was something that had been there and just needed to be grown. Mengar didn't care as long as Sybil wanted it, he was willing to give himself to her as he had done before.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>04-01-2015, 15:11:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was unsure of what she had expected to see upon entering the room, but seeing him on his feet, waiting to greet her was clearly not it. For a moment she stood frozen, her mind not ready to accept what her eyes were seeing. Mengar walked toward her, his movements spoke of lingering discomfort in his body, yet he still closed the distance with relative ease. It was not the work of her hand that made him whole again; it was Mytar. That thought dissipated the disbelief in her heart and allowed her to accept it as another divine miracle. The dark deity truly had a vested interest in his people, as she was starting to realize. He hadn’t abandoned them.<br><br>He pulled her into the warmth of his arms, though it wasn’t as full of an embrace as they both would have wanted. There was still tenderness in his muscles as flesh and sinew wove back together at an alarming rate. She was careful when she touched him, her fingers barely grazing along his back. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him further and so she handled him gently, as one would hold something precious and easily broken. His soothing voice offered her comfort and reinforced her findings. Soon, he would be completely healed and ready to join her side once again. <br><br>There was something else that hadn’t escaped her notice. He was different; even the way he spoke had changed. She tilted her head to look up at him questioningly, only to be met with his lips. There was a slight hesitation as she fought with a yearning to kiss him back and taste him like she had been wanting to and her healer’s instinct to inspect his wound. It took little persuasion from his mouth to make her yield. Small hands roamed his body until they settled upon his shoulders, her grip tightening as her lips gave into a hunger Mengar had awakened. She felt a need to press against him, to take his warmth and offer her own in return. Before she could entertain such impulses, she withdrew from him. Her heart ached from the lack of contact, but she convinced herself it was for the best. "Not yet," she said softly.<br><br>Her breaths came heavy and her lips were full and flushed from his kiss. The gray of her eyes had darkened into storm clouds and she quickly looked down at his bandage. She needed to see for herself. Carefully, she unwrapped the material. She tried to focus on her gentle movements and not the masculine scent coming from the man before her or the tension she had created by denying them both. It had not been a lie when she confessed her desire for him and there was new hope that they would be able to come together as mates once he was fully healed. She pulled the last of the bandage away and bent down to observe the wound. <br><br>Her careful sutures were barely detectable and the skin no longer looked angry. What should have been three moons of healing had occurred in a few hours’ time. Her fingertips brushed along the edge as if she couldn’t believe what she saw. If Mytar hadn’t intervened she would have no explanation for such rapid convalescence. <br><br>“What has changed?” She asked as she stood, her eyes full of curiosity. The answer would be delayed, however, for there was a soft knock on the open door to signal they were no longer alone. <br><br>Sybil went to the other priestess to take the tray of food that had been requested. “Thank you, that is all for now.” There was a nod from the other girl followed by a quick glance in Mengar’s direction before she closed the door behind her. The tray was set upon a small table on the other side of the room and she waited for her mate to join her before saying anything more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>05-01-2015, 12:22:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar never thought of how slight Sybil was compared to himself until he allowed himself to truly feel the press of her hands on his body. Before that moment, to his mind she was as big as him, which in her heart and soul, she was, if not more. But he was whole, spiritually, which allowed his mind not to be troubled and fighting over who was in charge of his body. Mengar was becoming acutely aware of his mate in all ways.<br><br>His ears picked up the faintest rustle of the cloth in her robes as she moved beside him, the soft sounds of their lips as they joined in the show of affection felt between them, the soft sounds of pleasure made. He could smell her skin, breath and her excitement at the kiss. He smelled the smoke of the incense that burned in Reimy's room that sat on her robes and skin. Everything reminded him of the wonderful woman who had been given to him as a gift in return for his service to his Master.<br><br>Sybil ended the kiss, her will applied sharply as if to stop something from happening while she still could. Her face was unreadable, but in time he knew he would be able to know her mind from what her body said.<br><br><em>"Not yet."</em><br><br>His head canted to one side in a clear question, yet the smile that formed was one full of temptation and wickedness. But he held his peace, for Sybil made a choice, and he would honour his mate's decision as if it was his own. He would not do anything to her while he was still injured, lest his activities made the wound worse. When he saw that her attention was directed at his bandages, Mengar stood a little straighter, and did all he could to aid her in removing bandage. He watched her as she looked at the wound, her gaze dutiful as she carefully inspected the healing wound. The gentle brush of her fingertips felt wonderful, sending a desired tingling through his body, awakening the slow burning fire within that burned just for Sybil, his mate.<br><br><em>“What has changed?”</em><br><br>He looked at her, smiled warmly, but waited for the other servant who arrived with his food to depart. When the other woman looked his way, the smile mostly disappeared, but he gave her a respectful nod before she left. Mengar waited for Sybil to deal with the tray, then walked over to her once more.<br><br>Both of his massive hands came to rest on the sides of Sybil's head, gently and irresistibly guiding her face to allow their lips to join once more. The fire that was embers before they kissed, that grew to small flames at her touch, roared into life at the taste of her breath as he claimed her lips again. The primal side awakened by Mytar's Servant poured his passion into the kiss, taking charge of how the kiss proceeded, when their tongues danced and how. He left her lips, kissing along her cheek, his lips never leaving her skin as hot blasts of his breath scorched the path his mouth took. When his nose reached the spot just below her ear, he took in a deep breath through his nose, pulling in the very essence of Sybil along with her scent. His mouth swiftly sank half way down her neck where he bit her. The use of his teeth was not to break her skin, or show anger. A deeper need drove him to claim her, mark her as his, as was right and proper.<br><br>When he lifted his head from her neck, he looked at her with the golden eyes of the Lupines that walked the nearby woods without fear. Yet there was nothing fearful about his gaze, one that drank in her beauty for the first time, appreciating the depth of the God's reward to him.<br><br>"What has changed? Faith and acceptance."<br><br>Mengar moved away from Sybil, reluctant to depart, and more reluctant to look away. He found the edge of the bed, sat, and commenced eating the food that Sybil had got for him. She was an honourable mate, and he would treat her as such, even if Mytar had not gifted her to him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>06-01-2015, 01:34:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When his warm hands found the edges of her face and tilted it upward to ease the claiming of soft lips, she would have had to be carved from a block of ice to turn him away at that moment. Limbs that had been rigid with tension and worry started to relax the more he took control and she was all too eager to relinquish it into his care. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her hands reaching out to gingerly run up the sides of his waist, careful not to graze his healing wound as she explored the hard muscle beneath his flesh. Something had changed in him. His presence was different, as if he was more aware of his surroundings. Before he was lost in how to participate in human culture, now he seemed to belong. She would have never wanted him to feel alienated amongst her people -- his people -- and now her fears were beginning to abate.<br><br>He moved away from her lips, trailing across her cheek and toward her ear. Her eyes had long since closed and welcomed a furrow in her brow as his heated kisses awakened parts of her that she had only recently become well-aware of. Parts that only he could enjoy, for they were his and his alone. Fingertips traced the cage of his ribs as he lowered his head and she craned her neck to invite him, not knowing that he would soon claim that part of her too. There was a sharp gasp as his teeth captured a portion of her supple skin followed by a soft moan. Nails bit into his ribs as an ache bloomed rapidly between her thighs, eager to be consoled. <br><br>Such a savage act would have startled her had he been anyone else, but with him it felt right, and she was surprisingly disappointed when he released her. Gray eyes opened to see the glow of amber gazing at her. The eyes of the wolf. There was an initial sense of unease that quickly vanished as the warmth in the look he gave her melted her fear. He would see she looked up at him adoringly with a yearning that intensified with each passing moment. There would not be a shred of doubt that she wanted him with the truth reflecting in her eyes. That she would have to wait to rejoice in their triumph made it all the more difficult to release him, yet when he pulled away from her she let him slip from her fingers.<br><br>His answer was cryptic and she didn’t understand it fully. With the taste of him still on her lips, she composed herself and slid out a chair from under the table and sat. She figured it was a wiser decision to keep her distance for the moment. She was content to watch him eat, happy that his appetite had not waned during the healing process, though it wasn’t his appetite for food that she was interested in…<br><br>She wanted to wait until he was at full strength before she asked probing questions, fearing that it might be too soon to inquire about what happened between the night before and the current. Temptation could be beaten twice in one night; a third was too hard to resist. “I don’t understand,” she pulled her legs up to her chest with her toes peeking just under the hem of her dark robe, “<em>you</em> have changed.” Her head was turned so he had her full attention while her fingers pulled her pale hair over one shoulder to idly toy with its length. Surely nothing else had changed? He treated her the same as he did before, perhaps even a little more tenderly.<br><br>“When you were between consciousness, you asked me how I felt about you and were very insistent for an answer. Why?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>07-01-2015, 03:14:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In his mind, he was now Mengar, Servant of Mytar, rather than Mengar, and the Servant of Mytar. He could feel the differences at times, yet there was none anymore. He was feeling the difference as he was eating. He liked the food, and knew it was nourishing his body, but he also wanted to eat meat, fresh, bloody and warm. He smiled at himself for having the dual thoughts, but he let the other hunger go. There would be times to feed in that way, but not before his mate in her... den.<br><br>As he ate, he observed Sybil as she tried to settle her body so she could settle her mind too. But then, he caught the signs that she wanted to share herself with him as a good mate would. It was something that he would not argue with, but then he remembered that there may be a way for them to share each other that would not tax his body too much. But he looked at her as she sat in the chair, her body closed up to protect her from... him? herself?<br><br><em>“I don’t understand, </em>you<em> have changed.”</em><br><br>Mengar nodded around a mouthful of food.<br><br><em>“When you were between consciousness, you asked me how I felt about you and were very insistent for an answer. Why?”</em><br><br>Mengar swallowed loudly, then washed down some of the food with the drink he had been given. His eyes almost glowed with warmth.<br><br>"I was told that you were my mate. But you serve Mytar, and none of His other servants are mated while they serve. I thought that you were my mate from devotion to Mytar only, and had no feelings for me. I needed to know how you felt in her heart. I know you feel for me. I accepted in my heart the duty laid on me. Blessing that came with what was given to me are now with me. I am also..." His face screwed up with effort, "whole? Before there were two in the one body, confused as to who was in charge. Now, there is one within, and we know who leads when."<br><br>Mengar swiftly ate, finishing off his meal before he stood up with the barest of winces. In a moment, he was before Sybil, one hand surrounding hers and he guided her off the seat. Once she was standing, Mengar roughly removed her robes, but not damaging them in the process, leaving her naked. As he rested a finger against her Cupid's Bow, he gave her a look full of wickedness, lust and something else as he led her to the bed, and laid her down. He parted her legs gently, but rather than lowering himself on her, he lowered himself between her legs.<br><br>Gentle lips found the smooth skin of her thighs, each touch a source of heat that left a slow warmth long after they found some other part of her thigh to kiss. Occasionally, his teeth caught a small pinch of skin, nipping it enough to be felt and known for what it was, but leaving little if any mark to speak of the occurrence. The true essence of Sybil's scent filled Mengar's nose to the point where he could not detect anything else. His attention turned to the source of the perfume, and his tongue reached out and ran the full length of her folds, touching everything from bottom to top in the one pass. A low rumble echoed in his chest as he savoured the taste of her, his tongue tracing the same path several times before he slowed to explore.<br><br>He delved deeper, into the Valley of Venus, following the smooth feature until he found Sybil's weakness. His eyes opened and he looked up the length of her body as his tongue danced about the fleshy pearl. Mengar knew enough of women, having been shown by one, that the little nub would grant her pleasures that normally men had from sex. He recalled everything he could about what he had been told, and what he had done. Most importantly, he listened to his Mate. His tongue was joined by his mouth in making the area come to life. He continued to lick, suck, taste, savour and delight in his mate until she felt the joys her body was meant to feel.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>08-01-2015, 03:52:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				While his answer satisfied most of her curious nature, she still wanted to ask more questions. Faith prevented her from doing so; she was not one to question the will of Mytar and it was nothing short of a miracle that Mengar was sitting with her in that room. Either way, probing him with more questions was not what she wanted to do. He didn’t need anymore weight on his shoulders. “I serve you both,” she added as an afterthought while he continued to eat his meal. Her eyes had dropped away from him and became transfixed on a spot on the floor as she gave in to her wandering thoughts. Their home was not yet safe from threat; she didn’t need to be a prophet to know that, but there was nothing that could be done in the meantime. Soon he would be fully healed and that alone was something to be grateful for. Now she could focus on getting Master Reimy recuperated and in good health.<br><br>Movement caught the corner of her eye before her attention. When she looked up to see him standing in front of her, those soft features reflected her confusion as he guided her from the chair. He grabbed at her robes and she made a slight sound of protest, her fingers trying to catch the material before it was snatched out of her grasp. His will would be done and between one moment and the next, she was bared before him. <br><br>“Wha--,” she started to question him, then was quickly silenced by his digit to her lips. Everything was said in his expression, making her burn hotter for him than ever before. There was still a shred of doubt, a hint of reluctance as she was led toward the bed and the pleasure he silently promised. He was still injured and his energy compromised; she worried that he would strain himself unnecessarily. If he would only wait one more night they would be able to truly explore while driving each other to the far reaches of bliss…<br><br>He laid her down on the bed with her wealth of golden hair spread across the pillow. Warm hands spread her legs which didn’t need much urging. She already craved him and waited for his weight to sink down upon her, but when it was the warmth of his mouth instead of his hips that touched her inner thigh, she became uneasy. “Mengar,” the voicing of his name was caught between a question and a plea, and timed just right when he caught a bit of flesh to toy with his teeth. The end goal for his teasing became obvious all too soon, causing her cheeks to flush just as hot as her loins. <br><br>Lips parted with every intention to stop him and his wicked trajectory had he not already met his target. There was a soft gasp that wouldn’t be contained, nor the series of hushed moans that followed as he explored with his tongue. Gray eyes rolled closed and for once she had no worries or fears. Just the exquisite sensations her mate so lovingly provided her. Fingers found their way into his hair, seemingly nowhere else to go. It would have been impossible not to touch him in some small way to continue the contact and increase the intimacy. She was supposed to be the one to serve him, not the other way around. But the attentive flick of his tongue proved otherwise and she surrendered to him. With her initial shame forgotten, the only thing left was to enjoy.<br><br>Her back developed a slight arch as her excitement built, her hips began to buck against his mouth and her breaths became shallow and quick. She was vocal enough to let him know she was completely captured by him, yet quiet enough to not alarm anyone who might pass by in the hall. With his prior knowledge, he was able to focus right where she needed him, even when she didn’t know it herself. Her soft touch in his hair became a gentle grip, and upon a shuddered breath she was able to make her final plea. “Please… don’t… stop,” the guilt of such a selfish request was overshadowed by the sudden wave that crashed into her. One hand left the comfort of his hair to muffle her cry while the other pressed him against her pelvis so she could experience ecstasy in its purest form. <br><br>After long moments filled with nothing but her sultry sounds of bliss and the involuntary movements of her small form, and when she became so sensitive that she could take no more, she put her hands back on his head to gently urge him away. It was too soon to speak, for she had to recapture an even pace of her breath, tame the wild beat of her heart and still the trembling in her limbs from the shattering experience.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>11-01-2015, 01:46:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar needed no prompting to remove his mouth from her after she had found her greatest pleasure. He knew how she would feel at that time, but more, he wanted to look upon her as she glowed in supreme joy. Her entire form seemed to have a halo from the joy she was feeling, and he felt proud to have given it to her. She had looked beautiful before he kissed her treasured place, but words failed to describe how she surpassed that while lying on the bed.<br><br>"Sybil, you have done much for me. This is... a small thank you."<br><br>His body showed Sybil that he desired her in the purest way, that he wanted to lie with her and mate with her again. But he knew he was not ready, not healthy enough to make it the joining that Sybil deserved. But he had given her a great joy, and he was pleased he had done that for her. He moved to join her on the bed, shifting her rather limp form so that he was sitting on the bed, his lap cradling her head while he combed her sweaty locks with his fingers. For a long time, he said nothing, letting his fingers move through the golden strands, with the occasional pause to gently rub her forehead with his fingertips.<br><br>"While I was wounded, lost in dreams, the Servant of Mytar spoke to me of how we... he and I, were not bonded properly. I needed to be more like you. To have faith in Mytar, and to accept His Will. I needed to know that this was not fully a duty to you. That there were feelings for me, even if they were pale. You spoke of how you felt, and that when we mate, it is something that you like, want even. I don't... I don't want you to hate me because of what you promised. But, you want me, and I want you, more than for just being a woman. So, I accepted my duties, and the servant and I are bonded better. I am better readied to face enemies of people.<br><br>"Am starting to feel love for you. I think it is love. Never felt love for another before, apart from family."<br><br>His gentle touch extended to include all of her face, simply letting his fingers wander aimlessly over the personification of herself. She was so beautiful, and in some ways he felt that her choice to serve was one that denied others the joys she would bring them. But then, it was her heart and soul where her real beauty lay, and those would accept nothing less that her serving the people as she had.<br><br>"When Mytar lays Himself to rest, we shall come together as mates should, until such time as we have shared all we can. Then, I will see Master Reimy. After that, I shall go to war again, but this time with all the wisdom Mytar has blessed me with. Enemy will know the fullest wrath of Mytar."<br><br>With a great show of flexibility, Mengar bent forward and gave Sybil a brief, tender kiss, then resumed his soft caressing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>17-01-2015, 14:58:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sybil lost herself in the afterglow of her powerful culmination. Not even the shifting of the bed could disturb her when he climbed up to settle next to her. Some things were sacred and had been denied even the most delicate indulgence in her years. Such things were frowned upon for she had dedicated her life, body and soul to Mytar. Sexual pleasure was thought to taint them and make them deviate from the cause, so they did not take mates or explore their own bodies beyond what was needed. It was why the experience was so profound to her. Mengar had given her the knowledge of a lover and enlightened her to what she had been missing all those years. That she had no warning made it all the more intense and wicked. It just about absolved their first union which was painful and unpleasant.<br><br>He would find little to no protest as he repositioned her so that her head was pillowed by his lap. She could detect when the corded muscle of his thighs made the slightest movement, hinting at the power contained just under his skin. His strength was formidable, something to be revered by his allies and regarded by his enemies. Gray eyes started to drift closed as she relaxed against him. His own arousal hadn’t been missed by her gaze though she made no move to engage him in more carnal pleasures. What had transpired shouldn’t have happened to begin with while recovering and she didn’t want to exhaust him further. His well-being was her main concern and it was enough torment to allow herself to enjoy the gift he gave her without remorse. <br><br>His hands passed through her hair at his own leisure and the gentle touch put her in a trance. A small smile was worn on her lips as he spoke openly. It was the most he’d ever spoken to her up until that point, mostly due to the language barrier that was all but gone. For a while she let him speak, savoring the sound of his voice as it caressed her like a loving hand. She’d been unaware that the dual spirits fought over one body and he seemed more at ease now that his fate had been accepted. Much like hers had.<br><br>Sybil was almost content to fall asleep when she caught the tail end of his confession. <br><br>She reached up and caught his hand, then brought it down to her lips for a soft kiss. “I accepted whatever Mytar would do when I made a vow. I could not begrudge you for anything of his doing because it is what I asked for to save my people. No matter what the outcome would have been, I would have been content as long as my people were safe. I am just blessed that you are not cruel and that you care for me. Mytar was merciful in that decision.” <br><br>There was no comment about what he said regarding his budding love for her. She couldn’t deny that she was developing feelings for him, but she wanted to keep it to herself for now. There was a lot plaguing her mind and making her feel a little unsure. It was hard to predict that they would even be alive to worship for one more day, with the enemy waiting to relay another attack. And then Master Reimy's failing health...<br><br>He bent down and kissed her lips, and when he resumed his position she winced at how much of a feat that had been. “You need an army that the King can supply.” She slowly sat up and turned toward him. “I believe that you are stronger now, I can see the difference,” she swung a leg over his so she was sitting astride his lower thighs, though she was careful in keeping some of her weight off. “But I lack the strength to watch you crawl up those stone steps again, using every bit of energy to hold yourself together.” <br><br>Pale hair fell in front of her naked breasts as she hung her head in shame and remorse. “Please don’t go alone…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>22-01-2015, 05:18:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Even though her touch was light, his hand was trapped in an unbreakable bond placed on him by her. He let his arm go limp, guided by her hand to bring his hand to her lips where she laid a soft kiss on it. Each little show of affection like that, the touch of her skin under the tips of his fingers, the press of lips against some part of his body, the look of wonder from the pale, gray eyes, all made the bond between them stronger in Mengar's soul. He briefly wondered what would happen when Mytar's need of him was over. Would Sybil remain with him? Would she still be a priestess, even after what had happened to her? He wanted Sybil to be happy with her future when the danger had passed, and to have peace once more.<br><br><em>“I accepted whatever Mytar would do when I made a vow. I could not begrudge you for anything of his doing because it is what I asked for to save my people. No matter what the outcome would have been, I would have been content as long as my people were safe. I am just blessed that you are not cruel and that you care for me. Mytar was merciful in that decision.”</em><br><br>"Those of nature are rarely cruel, not even the wolf is cruel. Mytar had his reasons for choosing us, and for the nature of the sacrifice that you would make."<br><br>After those words, Sybil raised herself form his lap, and shifted to sit astride it as she spoke further. It was difficult to keep his urges in check, as when she was close, and in private, he wanted to share the joys they could make together as men and women could. But he had made a promise to her, and he would stay true to his words.<br><br><em>“You need an army that the King can supply. I believe that you are stronger now, I can see the difference. But I lack the strength to watch you crawl up those stone steps again, using every bit of energy to hold yourself together.”</em><br><br>He looked on as Sybil's head went forward, spilling her golden hair over her chest, hiding her breasts behind the curtain of silken strands. Through that same curtain, he saw her face, full of sadness and something else uncomfortable. He started to feel uncomfortable at the way she was, as he thought that he was responsible for her low mood. He wanted to see her happy, with the smile that made her look so beautiful to his eyes.<br><br><em>“Please don’t go alone…”</em><br><br>His large hand went under the curtain of her hair to cup her cheek. He left it there for a short time, loving the feel of her skin against his hand. At the end, he used a tiny fraction of his strength to guide her head up so she could look at his face.<br><br>"I am not a leader of men, in battle or elsewhere. I would bring more deaths than I would save by leading men in a fight. But if I do fight with others to aid me, it will be Mytar's loyal servants who will be at my side, on the ground and in the air. But I have greater wisdom of how to use my blessing to fight better. I wont make the same mistake again. Also, alone, I can move without being heard and seen, while others would not be able to do the same."<br><br>Mengar's tender expression grew a little more serious. "I know you worry for me and don't want to see me hurt again. But I am a warrior for our God and Master, so there are dangers, including that I may die at the hands of the enemy. If that is Mytar's will, then I accept that. But, I feel that I am not to die in His service, but to live and throw back the enemies.<br><br>"Will you lie with me and rest? You bring me comfort, and that will help me heal faster and better."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>01-02-2015, 19:48:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The heat of his palm was comforting as he cupped her face and she pressed her cheek into him to accept the tender warmth. She didn’t look up until he guided her head into a slight tilt toward him. Gray eyes were heavy with emotion, which shimmered with the potency of it. She would not allow her tears to fall; it was her resolve that she would remain strong for him and be the mate he deserved. She listened patiently as he explained, with the smallest nod of her head being the only acknowledgement of understanding. It was his duty to protect the people, as it was hers to trust that he told the truth. <br><br>When she had better control of herself and trusted that she would not fall prey to her own emotions, she leaned in and planted a tender kiss on his lips. It was not meant to tempt him, but she could not stop herself from taking comfort in a pair of arches that were so warm, inviting and all but begging to be tasted. One hand remained on the bed to hold her weight while the other mirrored his own by cupping his face, her thumb slowly stroking the stubble she found. She took great care in handling him, making sure no part of her came close to brushing his abdomen, when all she wanted to do was push him back into the bedding and express herself freely. <br><br>She did not deepen the kiss, knowing the outcome would hurt both of them. Instead, she pulled away and rested her forehead against his. “Whatever it is that you need of me, I’ll do it.” Sybil retracted her hand and maneuvered away from his lap, careful not to jar him with clumsy movements. She had every intention of lying with him, but not yet. The robes which had been forgotten on the floor were picked up and slipped back on and properly adjusted. With her nudity shielded, it helped contain her own instincts and help with the chill in the room. Once she was dressed, she climbed back onto the bed and reached for the extra blanket folded at the foot of it, slipping it over the both of them as she laid on her side next to Mengar.<br><br>“You will need to conserve your strength if you are to save the kingdom,” she kissed his shoulder and looked up at him with a tired smile. It had been a long day and she could think of no better way to end it than next to her mate. She closed her eyes and pressed her body against him, offering him her warmth and what protection she could.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>03-02-2015, 12:39:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The acceptance of his imposed duties by the spiritual servant of Mytar had left Mengar with some advantages that he was still getting caught out by. As Sybil sat with him, he could feel her body tremble from the control she was placing over herself, as well as being very aware of the subtle aroma of her lust wafting from her core. Deep within him, he felt proud and happy that she was in need to sharing herself with him. She was an excellent mate, and he was honoured that she accepted her fate being tied with his. He vowed he would be worthy of her until the day he died, to show her how much he respected her sacrifice, and her determination to see it through.<br><br>When she leaned in, he mirrored her actions, allowing her to set the pace and tone of the exchange between them. His heart rate picked up as her soft,warm lips melded with his. While it lacked the passion they had shared before, it showed what he felt was more like love for each other, which was just as welcome. He wanted to feel her against him as they kissed, but he knew she was being careful of his injuries. He could not fault her for her devotion to his health, just like she was devoted to the health of others. But he was certain that the reasons for the devotion were greatly different. He accepted all she was willing to give without complaint, because it was given by her freely, from her heart.<br><br>The kiss ended with them resting their heads against each other, which felt just right to Mengar. He had stopped trying to figure out what he should and shouldn't do, instead going with his gut and if it felt right, then it was meant to happen and be enough. Besides, that connection was yet another way of her showing her feelings toward him.<br><br><em>“Whatever it is that you need of me, I’ll do it.”</em><br><br>Her hand left his face as she left his lap, careful not to make things worse for him. He knew that there was little Sybil could do that would make his wounds worse short of attacking him. Again, he didn't tell her that her care was not needed, because he knew that would hurt her feelings. However, her words sat heavily in his mind as he watched her dress once more. He gave her an understanding and supportive smile. The wisest were those who not only knew their own weaknesses, but also knew how best to not let them cause trouble.<br><br>As she returned to the bed, Mengar laid himself down so there was room for Sybil to join him. He remained still while she gathered more bedding for their comfort while they slept that night.<br><br><em>“You will need to conserve your strength if you are to save the kingdom.”</em><br><br>He nodded with a smile. "I am more aware of what my body needs, and what it can do. But I have you to help look after me, so I know I will be ready when the time comes to take the war to our Master's enemies." he went silent as she pressed herself against him, bringing him a warmth that was more than just from the heat of her body. He shifted himself to wrap her in his arms, shielding her from any harm that would ponder coming to her as she slept.<br><br>"You said earlier, you would do anything I need from you. What if I want something of you, or desire it? Would you do that too? If I asked? I know you made a vow to Mytar, and you are following through with that, but I don't want you to feel that must serve me without care about yourself too. Where I can, if there is anything I can do for you, Sybil, I will. You are special to me, a gift given by a God. A gift without price, nor measure of coin."<br><br>His lips found a part of her head, kissing her tenderly as he felt the pull of sleep on his healing body. He felt himself relax, his arms still holding Sybil protectively as he finally slipped from the land of the wakeful to the lands of slumber and dreams.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>04-02-2015, 21:34:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sybil burrowed against him as he wrapped his arms around her, each breath she took was full of his scent. It was only a little over a day ago that he was injured. A day without him being able to hold him, kiss him or show him any kind of affection other than to check his wounds. It was strange to feel so strongly for him in what little time they had spent together, but they also hadn’t met under normal circumstances. She dedicated her life to one of celibacy and devotion to those that she served and never gave much thought about what it would be like to have a partner along for the journey. Now that she had someone to stand by her side she did not regret her sacrifice. Like most things, she would adapt.<br><br>She took a deep breath and released it in a yawn against his chest, her body’s way of pleading for rest. Only, there was one last question she needed to answer. With her eyes closed to the world she listened to him, smiling lightly at his compliment. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who cherished the other, that he appreciated her. <br><br>“If it is your desire, I will do my best to sate it. Not because I am obligated by a promise, but because your happiness means a lot to me.” She would be naive to say she would carry out whatever he proposed, which is why she did not make that commitment. There were things that even her mate could not ask of her, though what those were she did not know. The only way to discover them was through experimentation. Her curiosity was piqued, to say the least.<br><br>Her hand rested on his side, caressing his skin lightly with her fingertips until they were both claimed by sleep.<br><br><hr><br>Her dreams were blissfully quiet and by the time she awoke, she was feeling rejuvenated. She was always an early riser, often waking up before the sun did. There were times when the temple was quiet and she would have a chance to watch the first rays peek over the horizon and know the world was at peace. She feared it would be a while before she had that feeling again, though being wrapped in the arms of her mate came very close.<br><br>What little light that was left in the fireplace would guide her as she carefully pulled out of his embrace and slipped away from the bed. She left the room quietly so she could find some breakfast for them both. He especially needed nutrients to aid in his healing. Mytar sped up the process but Mengar would need to keep his energy up. <br><br>The kitchen was quiet and she managed to scrounge up some bread and fruits that were left over from the day previously. She hoped it would suffice, for they generally had a bland diet with very little meat. She made her way back into the room, trying to be as quiet as when she left as she made her way to the bed. If he was awake, she would offer him the food and if he was still asleep, she would let him rest.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>21-02-2015, 03:39:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>Mengar walked through a fog so thick that it not only swallowed the light, but also ate all the sounds within the wooded surroundings. All he could smell was overwhelming dampness, as if his nose was dunked in a bucket of water. Normally, the lack of senses would cause worry, even paranoia in Mengar, yet for some reason, there was only calm that filled him. Rather than question the feelings, or lack there of, he threaded his way with caution, because there were still roots, stones and other normal dangers found in woods.<br><br>There was nothing to show the passing of time, so he had little idea of how long he made his way through the woods, or even in he was heading in one consistent direction. But he had not been traveling in a circle for the entire time as the wall of white vanished as he entered a clearing, dominated by a massively wide stump that held the highest point in the middle of the clearing. The tree that once grew there must have been wide to have claimed dominion over such a wide area.<br><br>Mengar waited, for he knew deep down he was meant to be there. Soon, bare audible beats of large wings slowly filled his ears as a large owl descended to perch on the stump. To his eyes, it was the perfect specimen of an owl, and the real birds would look like pale imitations of the magnificence before him. There was no thought in the need to bow, nor the act to fulfill the need. Neither was there any need for him to remain silent; he did so out of respect for his Master's chosen Avatar.<br><br>"We are pleased that you have accepted your duties, Child. Know that you now have all you need to complete the Task We have laid upon you."<br><br>"Thank you, Master, for Your faith in me. I will do my best to fulfill those duties You have placed upon me."<br><br>"Know also, that you are not the only one assigned a Task to do. There is one other that serves a greater purpose."<br><br>Mengar's brows closed for a second, then smiled broadly. "The Child of Faith will be pleased to know she is serving Your will in matters of importance."<br><br>"While your life can be taken, hers must not."<br><br>"While I live, so will she. There was never any doubt, Master."<br><br>"Your trials will be many, and some will not be known until they are upon you, but remain true to yourself and they will be overcome."<br><br>"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."<br><br>"Go forth with Our blessings, both you and the Child of Faith."<br><br>The Owl took to wing, each beat causing a billowing of fog to emerge until the entire clearing was as white as the woods surrounding it. Mengar lay down, curling up as he shifted from human to the form of a wolf, slipping back into a peaceful, deep sleep.</em><br><br><hr><br>Mengar drifted from the deepness of his sleep when Sybil slipped from the bed, unaware of what occurred. But the slow return to wakefulness continued, until Mengar knew he was alone in the bed. But the warmth was still there, and her scent was strong too, meaning that she was not long gone. He did try and think of the reasons for her not being there with him, but like himself, Sybil had been alone for much of her time before he arrived. She would have routines, habits, even duties that needed her attention. He felt foolish thinking that she was not present because of some dislike of him, or fear of what may happen between them.<br><br>Mengar heard Sybil's footsteps just outside the door moments before she opened it, carrying in food. He couldn't help but blush when he confirmed that she was not in the bed because he was bad, but she was looking after him as a mate does. He sat up, the covers falling where they may, exposing him partially to the woman who had been gifted to him by a God. He was pleased to see her, even as a man was pleased to see an attractive woman, but he kept his behaviour polite.<br><br>"Thank you, Sybil. There was no need for you to do that, but I do appreciate the thought. I admit to missing you when I woke, as I like the feel of you when you're close to me. You calm me more than anything else I can think of."<br><br>He accepted the food, not complaining at all over the content, and proceeded to consume it with a gusto. His body craved energy more than anything else, and the foods there gave him a good measure of what he needed. While he ate, his gaze spent the most time on Sybil, mainly watching her face, but also straying to take in the rest of her too. While he was not to most worldly of men, he knew more of the ways of intimacy than Sybil did, and he had to admit to himself that he was eager to show her more of those pleasures a man and woman could create, share and enjoy.<br><br>Once the food was finished, Mengar stood up and stretched. There was no one flicker of pain or discomfort because there was none felt. Sporting a broad grin, he walked over to where Sybil had sat her self on the bed, and scooped her into his arms. He turned himself around and sat on the centre of the bed, easing Sybil into his lap where he held her tenderly, giving her a soft kiss.<br><br>"Our Master is pleased with us, and what we will achieve for Him. I felt it right for you to know that too." He took a deep breath, catching every little variance in her scent. "You smell nice."<br><br>Mengar continued to hold her, his arms around her full of the affection that was growing within him. He did not love Sybil, but he could feel himself closing on that feeling with every minute that passed. It made him feel better that she was not just his gift, his reward, for the task he had laid on him, but that she was just as much a prominent servant as he was. He wondered for a moment whether he was her gift, but given the life they normally lived, he didn't think that would be the case.<br><br>"Thank you, as well, for tending to my injuries. I feel fully healed now, and I do believe that you had a part to play in that. I promise that I will take better care to not get wounded as I have been. I would not want you to be upset and worried like you were the last time."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>26-02-2015, 00:19:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The tray was carefully balanced in her hands as she approached the bed. The heavy shadows would have made it treacherous were she not used to the darkness and if it was not a direct shot to the bed from the door. She wasn’t aware that he was awake until his voice fell on her ears like a soft caress, making her smile. Her eyes adjusted fairly quickly, having adapted over the years to the tenebrous atmosphere of the temple. The people did their best to keep the ways of Mytar. They found the dark was often more forgiving than the light. <br><br>“I am in charge of your care, Mengar; it is my duty to take care of you,” her smile remained as she spoke, letting him know that while she believed her statement to be true, she had no issue with it. She pushed the meager assortment of food toward him and turned to her nightstand. She took a moment to ignite a flame so she could go around her chamber and light several choice wicks waiting to be fed to the fire. There was no source of natural light, so she had to rely on the aid of a few torches and candles to be her guide.<br><br>She made her way around the room at her own leisure, allowing him to break his fast in relative peace. With each step the light grew and before long there was a healthy glow that pushed the shadows to the corners of the room. She blew out the flame that gave birth to all the others and put the small candle back in its original location before settling down on the bed. Just in time to see that he was just about finished, which pleased her. He would need the strength that came only from nourishment. <br><br>When he was done, she watched him stand and stretch, amazed at how much he improved just over the course of one night. Her eyes never left him as he made his way to her side of the bed, wearing a grin. She was easily lifted into his arms and made herself comfortable there as he sat on the bed. A hand reached up and cupped his face, stroking the stubble of his beard with the pad of her thumb. <br><br>She was eager to return his kiss, though she made no move to deepen it or make it last, no matter how strong the impulse was to do so.<br><br>Her smile widened when he expressed Mytar’s gratitude on his behalf. She slowly slid out of his arms so she could situate herself into a more desired position. Her hands were gentle, yet conveyed a sense of urgency as her palms pressed into his chest to guide him onto his back. She used the opportunity to study his abdomen, wanting to see the healed portion for herself. Her finger traced along the scar, barely visible in the light. There was a slight ridge where the skin had been reconnected, nothing more.<br><br>“I know what is required of you. Your journey is not without danger and I will put you back together as many times as needed, so long as you come back to me.”<br><br>She carefully crawled on top of him, still afraid she may injure him in some way. It was based more on instinct than anything intentional and it did not stop her from settling her weight on top of him to sit astride his hips. <br><br>“Does he speak to you often?” She asked as her fingers continued to play across his abdomen, now more interested in the hard muscle than his healed wound. Gray eyes followed the path of her fingers, shaded by the fall of golden hair that hugged her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>10-03-2015, 05:24:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar was a little confused initially when Sybil slipped from his arms, but was more than happy when she merely changed how she was sitting. His curiosity soared when he felt the gentle but firm indications that he come to rest on his back, which he did happily. He looked on as she inspected his abdomen, and the area where his greatest wound was. From the expression on her face, he could only imagine the wonder she must have felt seeing how well he had healed. She was not alone in that feeling, though he suspected with her knowledge, it would have made it even more significant.<br><br>But regardless of the reasons for her touch, he welcomed it, along with the sensations that came with it. His skin tingled in a way that no one else had managed to make it, and he felt his temperature rising, all over, not just the points where her fingers made contact with him. He wanted her to explore him further, just to keep her fingers on him, maybe even her entire hands too.<br><br><em>“I know what is required of you. Your journey is not without danger and I will put you back together as many times as needed, so long as you come back to me.”</em><br><br>"Nothing will keep me from coming back to you, Sybil, short of Mytar's Will."<br><br>He remained still as Sybil moved to cover his with herself, her weight resting on his hips. His mid flashed an image that was a more pleasant variant of the one he was actually looking at. But he was too engrossed in the reality to disturb it with a fantasy.<br><br><em>“Does he speak to you often?”</em><br><br>Her question caught him off guard, mainly due to the way her fingers had started to explore him as he had wanted her to. He took a few breaths to help centre his mind enough to focus on her words, not just her actions.<br><br>"No, that was the first time He spoke to me. His other servant has spoken to me more often, and even now I am aware of his presence in my mind and soul. It is strange, yet reassuring, having this other within me. His thoughts are strange, and he has feelings that I can't even begin to understand, since they are rooting in his being a wolf. But I know he is here to help me, and I am here to help him. We both serve the same Master, and we both want the same outcome."<br><br>There was no stopping the way his body was reacting to Sybil's position, and he knew she could feel the firming flesh form between them, and close to her most sacred place. He wanted to love her again, share his body with her, and show her again the delights the Gods granted them when their forms were created in the ages long past. Even though he had declared that they would be that close again in the morning, Mengar didn't want to force himself on her when she was so willing to be his mate.<br><br>His hands went to either side of her face, pushing back the golden curtain that fell about it. He stared deeply into her eyes, then pulled her down so he could kiss her again. While he would not force her to have sex with him, he felt no such restrictions when it came to kissing her. He poured his passion for her through his lips into her, riding the increasing wave of emotion until he was closing on devouring her rather than kissing her. Toward the end, his hips were rocking, pressing his turgid flesh against her body as if it would someway miraculously remove the barriers between them, and cause him to slip into her warm, velvet darkness than he knew awaited his arrival.<br><br>"When done right," Mengar whisper hoarsely, "only the first time hurts, and even then, some are fortunate enough to be pleasured enough that the pain is not felt at all. Don't fear the call of your heart, or of other places within you. I will never intentionally hurt you."<br><br>He resumed kissing Sybil, letting his passion burn off through the engagement of their lips, not knowing that it was actually feed the passion, rather than sating it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>11-03-2015, 23:44:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As he answered, her eyes roamed the contour of his body as if he were a feast with no start or end, and her hands explored every inch within reach like she couldn’t decide where to sample him first. His explanation satisfied only a small part of her ever-growing curiosity and left her with more questions, but they were instantly quieted when his warm hands cupped her face and held it like a sacred chalise. She looked down at him as she waited for him to drink from her and was filled with relief and joy when he didn’t disappoint. He pulled her down and she was hopeless to deny him.<br><br>Her hands flattened into the mattress on either side of his head to brace her weight as she lowered onto his chest before her forearms took their place. Once in reach, his lips instantly claimed hers and she melted against him. Any sign of protest was silenced by his hungry mouth. Her soft body settled on top of his, the concern over a wound that no longer existed was cast aside as lost herself in her mate. It did not take long for Mengar to tear through any immediate reluctance and soon she was matching him with equal intensity as she drank her fill. A sigh of pleasure breached her lips as he escalated the passion by lifting his hips to press the hard length of him between her splayed thighs. Even with her robes separating their bodies, she was able to feel him with perfect clarity, and just under the eager surface, a spark of fear ignited.<br><br>The kiss began to ebb as he pulled away to speak, though the desire did not. Her breathing was labored and when she gazed down at him, revealed eyes heavy and full of need. The grit in his voice let her know he was just as affected. A moment passed between them, tender and loving, before he resumed tasting her. She rolled her hips and whimpered when she pressed against that particularly delicious spot his mouth had found the night before in a wicked kiss. <br><br>Sybil wasn’t sure whether to fear intimacy or welcome it. Both experiences she had with him were so intrinsically different from each other, one borne in pleasure and the other, pain. She knew now that the first time was not Mengar in control, but the servant. The wolf. The night before was all him and there was only pleasure. Still, she had little to compare her experiences. She would have to trust that he would be patient and gentle with her.<br><br>Her tongue began a heated quest in search of his, swirling and caressing once found. She carefully captured his lower lip between her teeth and gave it a gentle nip, quickly smoothing away any discomfort her playfulness may have caused with the sweep of her tongue. A kiss to the corner of his mouth followed by another on his jawline indicated her desire to pursue more intimacy between them. “I trust you,” her voice was a husky, shaken whisper in his ear. He needed to hear it just as much as she needed to say it. “Guide me in the way mates do and I will follow.” At that, she was halfway down his neck and gently nudging his head to the side so she could tease his pulse with the brush of her lips. <br><br>Power flowed in his veins, provided by their lord of night and sustained by Mengar's own strength of will. If he was brave enough to face a thousand enemies, then she would not turn away from him now. Her trepidation was inconsequential in comparison. Even though she asked guidance, it seemed she needed little as she moved further down to gently nibble along his collarbone. She kept her hips positioned above his, but started to nudge his legs apart so she could settle her own between his thighs to get more comfortable. For the moment she was enjoying him and trailing kisses where she may.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>27-03-2015, 01:51:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sybil matched his passion in equal measure, or so it felt, and his heart soared in response. Mengar accepted every touch, every request for his body to shift, to make it easier for for his mate to enjoy her activities, as well as himself. He laid as still as he could, denying his natural desire to role her onto her back, and take her with all the passion and vigour he felt for her. She was enjoying what she was doing, and there was little for him to complain about, but as a good mate, he allowed her the chance to learn more about him, so she could better please him, and allow herself to be pleased by him.<br><br>All too soon, his ability to resist failed him. With a show of strength, Mengar sat up, lifting Sybil into a vertical position like himself. He looked deep into Sybil's eyes as his hands searched for, and found, the lower hem of her robes, and lifted them from her body. As tempted as he was to look on her natural splendour, he kept his gaze locked on her eyes until he kissed her. The kiss was more subdued than the previous ones, but not lacked with the heat of those that preceded it.<br><br>Mengar eased himself onto his back, and brought Sybil down with him, keeping her at an angle high enough to allow him to bring his mouth to her breasts. He had wondered how they would feel against his mouth, and his imagination failed to accurately describe how good they felt and tasted. Mengar held his lusts in check, keeping himself to suckling on the flesh, and gently nipping and grazing his teeth over her magnificent orbs. Low groans and growls sounded through her flesh, all of them clear signs of delight at what he was doing, hoping that his feelings were matched by hers, if not surpassed by by hers. Not a single patch of her skin was spared from the attentions of his lips, tongue and teeth. as he didn't want to miss out on the smallest morsel that her breasts offered.<br><br>"Sybil..." His voice was hoarse and thick with his need for her. "Claim your mate. Take me within you, and let me show you the joys..." He lurched upward, catching Sybil's throat in his teeth. He sucked on her throat hard, his teeth clamped on her as he responded to his companion's desire to mate properly, rather than letting Mengar love her as he desired. His hips shifted, freeing his hardened length from between them, and managed to bring the tip to rest against her nether lips, teasing himself immensely while held back to let Sybil take him in on her terms rather than his.<br><br>"I am yours... as you are mine."<br><br>His lips founds hers again, and Mengar lost himself in the delights that her lips brought to him; mind, body and soul.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>28-03-2015, 19:29:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Teeth had just begun a delicate graze across his shoulder when he forcefully sat up. The motion forced her upright quite suddenly, putting them nearly face to face. She thought that maybe she had done something to upset or startle him, but when his hands engaged her curves as he searched for the bottom of her robes, she was able to relax again. He was only expressing his passion which she had summoned within him. The material was gathered in his hands and lifted up and off her body. She raised her hands to aid him in the endeavor to bare her to him and when the garment was discarded, she caressed his chest and shoulders while returning his heated stare. There was nothing to separate their bodies; only the fall of pale golden hair around her obscured some of his view if he were to look.<br><br>He didn’t. He chose to kiss her instead and she followed him down while eagerly tasting her mate. Lips were not able to partake of each other for long. He shifted her weight so her breasts would be directly above his mouth which immediately sought and claimed her flesh. The sensual exploration of his warm lips pulled a startled whimper from her throat, which deepened as tendrils of desire pooled from her belly to the more intimate parts of her. Fingers curled into the soft bedding on either side of Mengar’s head and she bowed her own, watching him inside a curtain of silk as he devoted his attention to her pleasure. Long moments pass before he pauses his ministrations to speak, to urge her to claim him. The ache between her legs wanted to oblige that tempting request, <em>demanded</em> that she give in to her mate and prove to herself that she shouldn’t expect pain when they come together as mates do.<br><br>Mengar then abandoned her breasts and angled to capture her the tender skin of her throat. There was no denying that he would leave marks, but it would not be shameful to bear them. Something that felt so wonderful couldn’t be a sin, could it? She felt him press his stiff length between her thighs before he took another kiss. She leaned her weight on him as they lost themselves in the moment, ever aware of the soft pulse at her entrance, begging for admission. There came a point where she let the intensity of the kiss ebb until she finally pulled away and sat upon him upright. It forced his shaft to be trapped under her weight, and from there she started to move her hips so that she rubbed herself up and down the length. She couldn’t have imagined how much pleasure that simple act would have felt had she not attempted it. <br><br>“Lie still,” she urged in a breathy whisper. She wanted to explore him just as he’d given her permission to do. Her hands settled upon his belly and roamed upward, gliding over his scar and ribs and back again as she looked into his eyes. Her own gray depths were at half mast, an indication that she was enjoying the feel of him. It didn’t take long for her motions to quicken, as the glide became smoother once he was coated in her nectar. She was learning her own body and what felt the best, especially when she switched the angle of her hips so that it was the small pearl at the crux of her curls to rub against him next.<br><br>Once she was comfortable enough to take it the next step further, she reached behind her and guided him to her slick opening. Without taking her eyes away from his, she started to slowly descend upon him. It was critical that she take him slowly and allow her body to adjust to being impaled. She hadn’t realized she quit breathing until the tip of him was inside. The pain she had anticipated wasn’t there, only a sensation of gradually being filled. Feeling a bit more daring and confident, she plummeted the rest of the way down until her pelvis was seated on top of his. Her eyes rolled back as she groaned his name. They were now one; whole.<br><br>Her hand took one of his and guided it to her breast while the other was brought up so she could bestow it with kisses along the palm. And that was when she started to roll her hips and truly claim her mate.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>06-04-2015, 04:42:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At first, he was at a loss for why Sybil didn't do as he requested, instead pinning his length between their bodies. But her hands were in motion once more, her desire to know the feel of his body greater than any other desire she felt. If it pleased her to run his body under her hands, he was not going to stop her, as it made her happy, and he wanted his mate to want to share herself with him again. Besides, he found the touch of her hands to be most pleasant.<br><br>But her motion led to another feeling, one that he found even more appealing than that of her hands. Her most private place slide along his trapped length, stroking him in a way he had never felt before, and if it was something that Sybil enjoyed enough, he would embrace it again. The heat and wetness coated him and he felt the tremors of joy from her as she continued her most loving stroking. It was even better than when her hand was exploring him there. All he could do was lay still, gazing at the expression of pleasure on her face as she seemed lost to the real world, and only living in the one where the pleasure flowed so freely.<br><br>A soft gasp escaped his lips when her hand found him, and aided in finding the proper place for him to be within her; the place the Gods made for a man and woman to join most intimately. His eyes remained locked on hers, even when his body almost demanded they close to focus the feelings even more. He wanted to read her thoughts, to peer into her soul as she felt him without the virgin's pain. He felt no need to rush the slow enveloping on his appendage, as it was what Sybil found to be most pleasing. Yet, her boldness took over, and with a soft grunt from the impact, Mengar found himself fully within his mate, who growled his name in a way that made the spirit within him feel the deep primal call.<br><br>Again, Mengar did not fight nor resist Sybil when he drew his hands forward, one to cup one of the glorious breasts, the other to receive kisses full of heat, dampness and passion that another part of him was receiving. The hand at her breast moved slowly, the palm grazing the pinnacle with the rough skin borne of countless hours swinging an axe, or pulling a saw. Mengar plunged the depths of his knowledge, remembering all he could about what he could do with his hand that would bring Sybil pleasure. His hand shifted, allowing the nipple to slip between two fingers, and he closed the gap tightly, capturing the hardened nub. He tugged in it, gently at first, then with greater pressure, increasing until he felt he was doing as much as he could to grant her pleasure rather than inflict pain.<br><br>As her hips rolled over his, Mengar fell into a rhythm of his own that matched and increased the pleasures washing over him from where they joined. The other within him was starting to make demands of him, and how he should continue with their joining. Images of Sybil flipped onto her belly, and Mengar plowing her treasure from behind, his jaws about the back of her neck; of her on her back, her legs raised above her hips, as if she were bent in two underneath him as he again took her with unchecked passion. He found himself thinking of how best to bring those images to reality without loosing too much contact with her, yet he found the will to remain as he was, and let them enjoy their joining as Sybil had decided.<br><br>He followed her lead, joining with her to heighten their mutual pleasure, until he felt the pooling of his ultimate enjoyment forming. His movements started to loose the measured pace and quality about them, as his need to exalt within her grew. The pressure built greater and greater, and everything else passed from his mind until there was the ancient need instilled by the gods. The hand at her breast remained there, but the other took a hold of her hip as his thrusts grew more powerful. Noises escaped his mouth as he answered the call, striving to reach the ultimate pleasure as quickly as he could. The pressure built until with a mighty groan, he felt the first pulse rushing to escape his body. The relief he felt was immense as that first pulse erupted within Sybil, the pleasure crashing over him and erasing everything else, except for her name chanted from his lips. His body bucked with strength and patience, driving his physical love for her as deeply into her embrace as he could get.<br><br>All the strength fled his body, and he slumped against the bed in bliss, thanking Mytar for his blessings, in the shape of his mate. With her love, he knew he could face down any enemy of his Master, and defeat them. For the briefest moment, he wondered if she would be his mate for the time Mytar needed his service, of even when he was released, would she still consider him her mate. Soon after, he knew that if it was just during his service, and no longer, Mengar would be grateful for what he had received, even if it would disappoint him loosing Sybil.<br><br>"Faith. All I need is faith... and the love of my mate."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>13-04-2015, 01:46:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At her allayed behest, Mengar became a compliant and yielding lover. It pleased her that he would allow her to explore his body and the various ways in which she could reap her pleasure from it. He needed little encouragement to let his hand roam where it would; seeking across the fullness of her breast until her rosy nipple was captured and teased time and again. Warm breath billowed across his palm as she released a soft sound of gratification when he managed to tug on her just right. She brushed her cheek across his calloused hand to feel the warmth of it against her flushed skin, then turned her head and slipped his longest digit between her lips. <br><br>Her hips continued to move, working in her own natural rhythm with increasing momentum as she learned that there was more to mating than the first initial pain. Pain she had yet to feel on this particular coupling. She was free to take him as deep or shallow as she wished, much less a seizure of control on her part than a relinquishing of power on his. Gray eyes watched him as she suckled his finger and explored its rough texture with her curious tongue. She eventually released his hand and from there he moved it down to her hip to steady her as he became more demanding. The pace she had set up until then was stagnant compared to what they were propelled into next.<br><br>She leaned forward, planting her palms on the sides of his head to give her more leverage to move in time with his thrusts. Instinct took over from then, leaving her needing little instruction on what to do with her body. She closed her eyes as her face settled into an expression of pure rapture as Mengar claimed his mate. His groan was divine; all baritone and masculinity beneath her as pleasure surged through his body until it erupted inside her. Sybil was entirely focused on her mate and did not become still until he surrendered his strength against the mattress.<br><br>Smiling down at him, she pushed the hair from his brow and kissed him there. Then she eased to his side, careful when she pulled away. There was an immediate emptiness that set in once their bodies were no longer joined. It made her want to repeat what they’d just done. Soon. “You will have my love so long as you have faith in it.” She didn’t bother throwing a blanket over them. The light coating of dampness glistening on their bodies was indication enough that it wasn’t needed. Sighing, she pressed close to his side, settling her head onto his chest and throwing a slender leg across his thighs. He was hers just as much as she was his. He’d said the words and she’d agreed. It was the will of Mytar and of her own heart. There was no proper way to argue with either.<br><br>She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep; all she remembered was lightly tracing meaningless symbols across his chest before the world went back. What awoke her was a soft knock, or so she thought… Stormcloud eyes started to drift closed again when another knock tapped on the door, a little more urgently. With a groan of protest she rolled away from her mate, grabbed her robe from the floor and slipped it on as she went to greet the one seeking her audience. <br><br>On the other side of her door stood Malkin, who blanched at the sight of her. Tousled hair, flushed skin, robes in disarray; one could only come to a bitter conclusion as to what took place. He took a step back and quickly wiped the consternation from his face before he delivered his message. “There has been news. Master Reimy requests to speak with you both.” He didn’t linger at her threshold. She closed the door and turned to the bed, all evidence of their shared bliss gone from her expression.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>25-04-2015, 03:11:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar was saddened slightly when Sybil removed herself from above his body, as he was enjoying the feeling of being covered, as if protected, by her and her affection for him. But the sadness was driven off by the soft kiss to his brow, which brought back the warm smile that only she could summon. But she laid herself beside him, partially draping herself over him, which allowed him to encircle her in his arm, and permit him to continue to enjoy the proximity of her body, heart and soul.<br><br>He was relaxed, and at peace, after their joining and sharing their affections in a physical way. It was a calm he had not known before meeting her, and accepting his role as placed on him by Mytar. After hosting one of the God's avatars, there was a constant restlessness deep within him. He had a need to work for the betterment of his God, and those that acknowledged His divinity. But with Sybil, that restless feeling was eased, allowing him to relax fully, and ensure that he was ready for those times when he would go forth and actively serve Mytar.<br><br>Mengar found himself smiling like a child given a treat as he felt Sybil's fingertip running over his skin, drawing symbols that he could guess. The finger movements got heavier and slower until her hand came to rest on his chest and he knew that she was sleeping, wandering one of the minor realms of Mytar as she slept. He just laid on the bed, allowing himself to get lost in the physical feelings of the woman lying beside him. Neither really asked for this, but they had both found that they had been truly blessed.<br><br>How long they laid together, Mengar had little idea, but the knock was loud enough to bring them both back from where they had gone to. Mengar's brows closed as he tried to think of who and why, but as he did, Sybil moved quicker, donning her robes quickly, and moving to the door with a similar amount of haste. From where he was lying, it was difficult for Mengar to determine who the source of the disturbance was, until the man spoke.<br><br>The frown deepened into a scowl as he thought of the priest on the other side of the doorway. He was sure that the other man harboured feelings for his mate, but he had the decency not to act on them too much. The priest probably could not keep all of his feelings in check, which was why Mengar had noticed the man's feelings so clearly. At least, he was a loyal servant of their mutual Master.<br><br>“There has been news. Master Reimy requests to speak with you both.”<br><br>The message delivered, he departed swiftly, as the sounds of his footfalls told. The door soon closed, and Mengar was sitting upright. His calm was gone the moment he saw her face. A shallow anger filled him, aimed at the one who had just visited them. His mate had been content, happy and at peace until <em>he</em> appeared at the door. There was an urge, one of his own and another from his ally, to show the priest the error of his ways in upsetting his mate as he had. Mengar cared little how much of her upset was self made; all he saw that she was not happy, and he was the cause.<br><br>"Let us not keep Master Reimy waiting any longer than needed." Mengar stood, and took Sybil in his arms. Just holding her was enough to drain the anger from him, allowing himself to remain in charge of his feelings, rather than the other way around. "Thank you, love."<br><br>Mengar found suitable clothing to wear before the highest servant of Mytar, and waited for Sybil to ready herself. In deference to her position of priestess, Mengar followed her to where Master Reimy awaited them, cautiously eager to hear what news he had for them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>18-05-2015, 01:50:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Those words settled upon her like a tangible weight, tugging on her body until she was slightly hunched. There could be no good news coming out of a message so abrupt, though she realized part of that might have been Malkin’s own emotions. Either thought did not sit well with her and she filled with anxiety. She’d been naive to think there had been only two affected by the match made by Mytar. As if beckoned, she felt the familiar touch of her beloved as he wrapped her in his arms. She welcomed the warmth and slid her hands around his waist, wishing they could dismiss the summons and join upon the bed again, where time had no meaning. Initially, she sensed that he was not completely at ease, but it started to melt away the longer he held her. Sybil brushed her lips against his chest just before he pulled away in order to find clothing. <br><br>She combed slender fingers through her hair until it was fit to braid, which was completed swiftly. In the time it took Mengar to find the respective robes and donn them, she had finished with her appearance and was in the middle of blowing out the candles lighting the chamber. Supplies were scarce already and by her prediction, would become more so as the kingdom supplied the war efforts instead of the temple. <br><br>When he was ready, she guided him through the same channel of passageways that would take them to Master Reimy. He was still on bed rest, though more out of caution due to his age rather than any lingering injuries. Somewhere in between she reached for his hand and held onto it in a loose grip; just something to let her know he was near. Before he came along, it was Malkin who held her hand and before that, Reimy. She knew there would come a time when she would have to stand alone and the idea was absolutely terrifying. She held on tighter to her mate and picked up the pace.<br><br>Sybil stopped at the door, knocked, and waited. There was a glance toward Mengar and she even managed to offer him a optimistic smile. A muffled voice drew her attention away from the man at her side and a moment later the door opened in invitation. The scent of smoke filled the room, its source a glowing brazier at the foot of Reimy’s bed. It had the scents of herbs meant for healing when breathed in and gave the room a rich, wild aroma. He was sitting up, glancing over an old scroll by candlelight and squinting with the effort.<br><br>“My eyes are not what they used to be,” he said as he carefully rolled it back up and handed it to Malkin, who had moved back to the bed to busy himself with bolstering the elder and making sure he was comfortable.<br><br>“You wished to see us?” She asked after approaching the bed, scanning his face for any signs of distress. <br><br>He turned his aged features toward her and held out his hand. She hadn’t realized she was still holding onto Mengar’s until she pulled out of his grip to give it to Reimy. “There has been news. The Severassi have regrouped and are now bringing in more forces from the sea. There have been ships seen in the distance, dotting the horizon like freckles on a child. The king is gathering the army and preparing for battle, but we will need help.”<br><br>He looked away from Sybil and gave Mengar his attention, causing her to follow his line of sight until they were all looking at Mytar’s champion with grim expressions to match.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>31-05-2015, 04:53:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When they arrived at the room of the Elder Priest, Mengar noticed that his sense of smell was stronger than normal. He could easily pick up on the smoke that he suspected filled the room. The combination made his nose twitch a little, and he was afraid of how he would react to the full strength of the smoke. But he would put up with it, because it was Mytar's will.<br><br>On hearing the call of 'Enter', Sybil opened the door and the two entered. The full power of the smoke struck Mengar, and his eyes watered a little, and his nose tried hard to shut itself to stop the overpowering scent from filling his mind. He scanned the room, seeing the other priest, the one who wanted his mate, helping the old man sit up. Mengar scowled at the man, the primal part of him wanting to beat the other one into submission, and remove all thoughts of his mate from the challenger's mind. But doing that would cause trouble, and hurt his mate's feelings. Sybil showed no interest in the other priest beyond being a friend, and he had nothing but trust in her. Mengar hated himself a little for his feelings toward the other priest, but he was under the effects of powerful feelings.<br><br><em>“You wished to see us?”</em><br><br>As always, there was genuine concern for the older man. Mengar felt proud of how much Sybil cared for others, and did what she could to help. Where he was one of violence and fight, she was one of peace and calm. It was as if Mytar put them together because they were opposites in how they dealt with the world. He knew for certain, she was the rock, the anchor in the storms that surrounded Mengar, and gave him peace and rest unlike any he had before in his life.<br><br>“There has been news. The Severassi have regrouped and are now bringing in more forces from the sea. There have been ships seen in the distance, dotting the horizon like freckles on a child. The king is gathering the army and preparing for battle, but we will need help.”<br><br>As the old man spoke, Sybil removed her hand, one he forgot he was holding and immediately missed. She had become such a part of his life that he found it hard to imagine it without her, which he suspected would be the case when Mytar no longer needed his service. He returned from his musings when the room went quiet, and it felt like everyone was looking at him for an answer.<br><br>"Well, I can't swim out there and deal with them. But those already on land, those I can deal with." His expression softened a little, and took on a particularly feral feel. "Besides, there are many of the Severassi between here and where the King's army will be gathering, I would think. They will give me something to keep the boredom away while I traveled there."<br><br>The decision was made, he would go off to war yet again, but rather than fighting close to his 'home', he would go further away. He frowned deeply, unsure of what to do about Sybil. He wanted her close to him, yet where he was going would be dangerous, the last thing he wanted his mate to be was in danger.<br><br>"I will make myself ready to travel and help the King's army. At least my mate will be safe here while I am gone."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>12-06-2015, 02:03:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Flashes of Mengar crawling up the temple steps, barely holding himself together before collapsing stormed her thoughts. If she could have her way, she wouldn’t allow him to return to battle. They’d nearly killed him the last time, despite being gifted by Mytar’s image. She had done her duty, diligently working for hours piecing him back together when a normal man would have perished long before she had the opportunity to give him her healer’s touch.<br><br>“No,” came her soft, yet assertive reply after Mengar had spoken, “I will not stay here, waiting around to see if you will return.” She kept her eyes on her mate, lifting her chin slightly and straightening her spine as she gathered the courage to reveal her decision. “I’m going with you.”<br><br>“Sybil,” Reimy started at the same time Malkin said, “no.” The elder’s fingers curled a little more tightly around her hand, as if that would ground her, and possibly stop her from following Mengar into danger. “You cannot go with him and impede Mytar’s will. Battle is no place for a priestess. Your place is here, to serve.”<br><br>She pulled out of Reimy’s grip and took a step backward, away from the three of them. “There is if the priestess has ample knowledge with healing. I could help the wounded. They will need healers and cooks, someone to look after the fallen soldiers. Someone to look after the Champion.”<br><br>“You are doing nobody any good if you end up getting killed.” Malkin’s controlled voice came across Reimy’s prone form, drawing her eyes to him. He looked at her with concern, but she could see anger in his gaze. Worry furrowed his brow, loathing made his fists clench at his sides. He loved her, that was never in question. She did not belong to him, nor would she ever, but he felt what he felt all the same.<br><br>“And I am doing nobody any good staying in here while a war is being fought on our shores. I’m going.” She looked from Malkin to Reimy, then back to Mengar. “It is the only way I can fully serve Mytar.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>26-06-2015, 02:35:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar felt pride and disappointment at the way Sybil made her feelings clear about what she would do while he went away to fight, and serve Mytar's will. He felt good that his mate was brave, strong and willing to serve those that Mytar cared for, as well as desiring to be at his side, or close to him. Yet he was slightly angered that she ignored his will that she stay in the temple, where she would be safe.<br><br><em>“And I am doing nobody any good staying in here while a war is being fought on our shores. I’m going. It is the only way I can fully serve Mytar.”</em><br><br>Mengar fought to keep his human side in dominance while he thought through what Sybil said. It was true, she was a gifted healer, and many wounded men would live with her help, that would otherwise die without her presence. While it was natural that people died, Mytar was not one for allowing his followers to die when it was possible for them to live. Like his other children, Mytar felt it was better not to fight at all where possible, but if there was going to be a fight, for the fight to be over quickly with the least loss of lives possible. Healing the wounded would help reduce the lost lives.<br><br>He looked at Sybil, his expression on of pride and pleasure in his mate, and what she was willing to do in service to their mutual Master. It was hard for him to accept her desire to come with him, but it was the nature of their Master to stand together, the pack stayed together, looking after each other through all life threw at them.<br><br>Mengar cocked his head to one side, the sounds of running feet closing on the door to Master Reimy's room. A series of hammer like blows echoed through the room, then the door burst open.<br><br>"Master Reimy! Pilgrims have seen enemy soldiers closing on the temple again. We must make ready for another attack."<br><br>Mengar growled like the wolf who's shape he shared, and spun on the messenger. "Where are Mytar's foemen?"<br><br>"I... I don't know..."<br><br>"Then take me to one that knows." The messenger cowered, and nodded vigorously before racing out of the room. Mengar turned to face his mate. One hand wrapped around the back of her head and pulled her into a deep kiss.<br><br>"Stay within the temple until I return. I will not let them harm me, as I know how our Master wants me to deal with them."<br><br>Mengar ran out with a loping step, going after the messenger, so that he could deal with the enemy, and ready himself for travel to another part of the war.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>26-06-2015, 03:13:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was tension between the four of them. Reimy was looking at her with concern all over his aged features while Malkin glared at her. Before anyone could offer much argument against her case, there was banging on the door that sent it bursting open after a few well-placed blows. The other servants knew they were not to disturb the Master if the door was closed and they hadn’t been allowed entrance; only one stipulation exceeded that rule and so once one of their own came barging in, Sybil’s heart dropped.<br><br>After the brief exchange between messenger and mate, she turned to him and received his kiss. It was quick and full of emotion. She gave her silent agreement to stay within the safety of the temple until he returned, and held a stare at the open door after he was gone. Her vision blurred and she blinked back the tears she refused to let fall.<br><br>A wrinkled hand reached for the sleeve of her robe, but she was already walking into the hallway with heated whispers at her back.<br><br>She was halfway to the inner sanctum when she heard a shout behind her.<br><br>“Sybil, wait!” She didn’t pause to allow Malkin to catch up, knowing he was determined enough to end up at her side, regardless.<br><br>He landed by her side just in time to pull the heavy door open for her, allowing it to close behind him as he followed her to the stone image of Mytar. She stopped to stand before it, gazing up at it in reverence. Malkin stood at her side, ready to speak when her raised hand stopped him.<br><br>“I know you worry, but you cannot order me around anymore. It is no longer your place to express your concerns for me now. You will have to trust that I’m doing the right thing.” Gray eyes looked over to her friend, her lips curving into a frown at the hurt in his gaze.<br><br>“Sybil,” he turned to face her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, “you are my oldest and dearest friend. I can’t think of anyone else I would want to live out a life of servitude with. Besides,” he captured her with a smile, “who else would have tended my burns when I fumbled with the braziers or taught me the merits of memorizing prayers upon threat of a beating?”<br><br>“I still say I should have broke into Master Arthur’s chamber and used his cane on you.”<br><br>Relief surged through him, knowing by her returned smile that all was well between them. It took little coaxing of his hands to bring her against him for a consoling embrace. She wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and took a few moments to sink into decadence, breathing in each other’s familiar scent. He stroked his fingers through her hair, the same golden strands that reminded him of jasmine and lavender.<br><br>Time passed, perhaps too long. Once the moment was fully lived, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and slowly released her. “I’ll leave you to your work.” Then, bowing his head to acknowledge the peace between them, he left her alone to pray.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>28-06-2015, 04:39:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar caught scent of the enemy before he saw them, and well before they even guessed that there was an enemy closing on them. Eight soldiers, they smelled mostly of the land, but to the sensitive nose such as his, he could pick out their true scent underneath. He closed from down wind, and saw them with his own eyes. He was pleased to see that they were widely spread, which made his task easier. With great care, he pinpointed the man of the left most side, and found himself a good place to strike from. The enemy never knew he was there, and was dead before he was aware of what was happening.<br><br>Two more of their number met similar fates before they knew they were under attack. As seasoned soldiers, they closed their ranks, and became more diligent in searching for him. Mengar never made it easy for them, and waited until their diligence lapsed. With a blur of speed, he raced through the group, his attention on the leader. While the man was not slain by the attack, he was wounded visibly, and uneasy on his feet. His men started to panic, but he brought them under control. They were scared, and rightly so, but the leader was one Mengar could respect. He was a good alpha, even if he was out matched.<br><br>Another rush, and a soldier was grabbed and carried off to his death, his voice screaming loudly before stopping with a sickening crunch. The retreat was called, and it took everything to prevent a rout. They moved swiftly, not caring that they were leaving a trail, or easily heard. The one covering the retreat screamed before he died, but it mattered little then. They broke, and the leader was abandoned in their haste. The leader never saw the blow that broke his back, and his last vision was of the monster jogging past him to slaughter the rest of his men.<br><br><br>Mengar paused at the stream, aware of the blood, and other things, that stuck to his fur. When his mate saw him last in the war form, the blood on him was his, not another's, and he worried that she would think that he had been wounded again. It would also keep the enemy from being able to scent him from the gore of his foes. He tracked the stream for a while, and found a pool large enough to let him wash the fight from his fur.<br><br>He splashed and rolled in the water, shaking his fur several times until there was nothing more coming off his coat by the water itself. He even felt refreshed from the water, which made his feel even more proud of his defeating of his Master's enemies. Still wary that there may be others, Mengar used caution on his return. The enemy was determined, and he would not be complacent because of one victory.<br><br><br>The other servants of his Master gave him a great deal of space as he approached the temple, and entered to find his mate. He had grown used to the other form that he forgot that he was in Mytar's gifted shape, rather than the one he was born in. He paused, sniffing the air and finding peace at the scents of the incense burned for their Master. He lopped through the temple grounds, heading for the room he shared with his mate, when her scent caught his nose strongly enough to tell him she was close.<br><br>He found her in the hall of Mytar's image, at rest and praying to their Master. Seeing her brought him a calm that washed aside the anger he felt to his enemies, until another scent, almost as strong, reached his nose. Him. The one that wanted his mate. Eyes narrowed as he took a slower, deeper breath that almost tasted the air. It was strong on her, stronger than was right. Was he trying to claim her, challenge him to his bond with his mate?<br><br>Claws clacked and scrapped on the stone tiles as he closed on his mate, ready to reassert his rightful claim over the one his Master had gifted to him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>28-06-2015, 05:27:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Waiting, she found, was the most excruciating part. Worry gnawed at her insides until she felt it would consume her. She was restless and it took a long time before she was able to settle down and pray adequately. Surely Mytar would understand if her words came out more jumbled and convoluted than her usual calm and collected flow; normally she wasn't praying for the well-being of her mate who could potentially be taken from her. <br><br>She sat on rug to buffer her from the stone floor, surveying the deity’s image with a brazier glowing in the space between. It offered the most expansive source of light though not quite reaching to the far corners of the chamber. A few sconces illuminated the walls for depth, but she did not bother herself with lighting them all. Sybil found it easier to channel Mytar when she could get it as close to night as possible, for that was his domain.<br><br>While she prayed, she had no recollection of time. One of her legs eventually fell asleep and she had to get up and walk the pins and needles out of it. She debated on taking up another task, but knew that her place was in the chamber. She took her seat again, pulled her feet up close to her body and fell into a silent prayer.<br><br>Eventually, her attention was brought back to the chamber when the door creaked. She slowly turned to see who entered and was instantly overwhelmed with relief at the sight of her mate. Nothing could have taken her joy at seeing him alive and well, not even the fact that he was in the shape of his beast. “Mengar,” she pushed to her feet and took a step before realizing that something wasn’t quite right. He did not greet her and his stance was a little more aggressive than what she would have expected.<br><br>And there was the look in his eyes. Even in the dim lighting she could see the quiet rage in them.<br><br>She took a step back, then another as he approached. “Mengar? W-what’s wrong?” Fear was apparent in her voice. She knew he would never hurt her, yet she wanted as much distance from him as possible so long as he looked at her like that. Like she could very well end up his next victim.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>02-08-2015, 03:09:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mengar saw the delight in her eyes fade as he approached still in his war form, the lovely expression fading to be overshadowed by the tangible fear. The closer Mengar got to his mate, the clear the scent of Him was on her. She was <strong>his</strong> mate. HIS! Mytar gifted her to him, proclaiming her to be his in return for his service to their Master. He would show her that she was indeed his mate, and no one else would know the joys of her body, heart and soul. Then, he would gut the traitorous servant before the rest of them to show them what happened when they ignore the will of their Master.<br><br>She stepped back from him, making his rage grow further, telling him that she had been unfaithful in her deeds with the other one.<br><br><em>“Mengar? W-what’s wrong?”</em><br><br>A low rumbling growl was his only reply to her. He would not waste words on her when his actions would make it perfectly clear. His stance dropped further, lowering his centre of balance and better readying himself to launch into action as he desired. A small part of his mind, the bleak island in the sea of rage, cried out that she would not have betrayed him, that her loyalty to their master, and to him as her mate, would have prevented anything like that happening. The voice was strong enough to stay his hand enough to make sure that the little voice was right.<br><br>Mengar was on her in one effortless bound, his hands as well as his feet aiding in the perfect landing that had him almost touching her. Just as effortlessly, he raised himself onto his feet while his large, paw like hands wrapped around her arms and lifted her from the floor to bring her head closer to his snout like face. The first breath he took in carried the clear scent of Him from her crown, where his lips had touched her. The island of reason in the seas of rage sank deeper and quicker than Atlantis. He bellowed in anger and pain over what he clearly saw as her betrayal of him. Part of him wanted to slam her into the floor, yet he controlled himself enough to bring her back to the floor harder than was preferred by her.<br><br>Mengar grabbed the front of her robes, ripping them apart as if they were made of gossamer threads. The front of her beauty was exposed to his eyes. Where other times that brought glorious thoughts of how amazing she looked, all it seemed to do was add more fuel to the rage, as well as making his blood flow in ways that made it clear to Sybil what he was intending to do to her. The strength he used to remove the remainder of her clothing spun her around, leaving her back to him while she was completely naked before him.<br><br>"MINE!"<br><br>He crashed into her body, one massive arm wrapped around her belly as he carried her to the floor where he claimed her the first time. He dropped to his hand and knees, before he flattened her beneath him against the cold stones of the floor. Malkin's scent on her hair continued to flood his nose, making it impossible for him to know that his 'competition's scent' was nowhere else to be found. The scent drove him to make sure that his claim over her was greater, and one she would never forget.<br><br>His natural spear found the gap between her legs, and it rasped against her secret place. He was larger in that way as he was in the rest of his body. But his appendage was only slightly longer, but it was noticeably thicker that when he was in his human form. He curled his body up as much as possible so his face was close to one of her ears, allowing her to feel the blazing air scorch her sensitive flesh, to hear the clear clicks of his vicious teeth connecting with each other.<br><br>"Mytar bless Mengar with Sybil. Not other that has heart for Mate."<br><br>Mengar shifted his hips as he pulled his rod from between her legs, dragging the head along the slit that was found there, and with an instinct as strong as it was old and primal, he drove himself deep within Sybil's most private place. He stretched her, feeling her tight grip even more as he sank as deeply as her body would permit. With the thrust, a blast of breath smashed into the side of her face, carrying the savage joy he felt in taking his mate once more, in the way he was permitted by their Master.<br><br>"Mengar's Mate."<br><br>Mengar slammed his hips into Sybil's rear with a rapid pace, not concerned with her pleasure. He was claiming her, pure and simple, reminding them both of the bonds placed upon them by their Master.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>10-08-2015, 00:56:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When his growl disturbed the quiet air of the sanctum, she was stripped down to the incredibly vulnerable core of herself. The vibrations of such a menacing sound were felt in the stones beneath her feet as he approached. Still she moved backward, distraught by what was happening. What could she have done that would provoke such violence in his eyes… against his own mate! His body was low to the ground like the perfect predator stalking its prey, and it took one great leap to close the distance between them. The trust she’d felt with him was all but shattered as he grabbed her and lifted her up. Instinct dictated she turn her head to the side to avoid his teeth, but she couldn’t stand to gaze into those eyes that promised her harm.<br><br>His roar made her flinch in his hands and she struggled in that iron grip to be free. She was shaken and already wondering if she would ever be able to see her brethren again; surely some spirit had possessed her mate and drove him to the point of insanity. Mytar’s most loyal servant was found within her… what reason did he have for punishing her this way?<br><br>She was set back on the floor and she took it as an opportunity to reason with him. “Mengar… what have I done?” His hands gathered her robes and in one violent wrench, he tore them to absolute shreds. “No…” Instantly she started shaking her head and trying to cover herself with her hands. There was no mistaking the hardening length of him between his furred thighs. Not impossible to take into her body, but it required adequate preparation and patience. He had neither. He would surely rip her just as cleanly as her robes.<br><br>Jerking on the robe put her back to him and his weight crashed into her body. The only thing preventing her from serious injury was his arm around her waist to buffer the fall, but once they were both on the floor, he pinned her to the cold stones with his body. What should have been a time for her to revel in the warmth of his body surround her and the caress of his fur against her bare flesh was spent in anguish. His hair abraded her, his weight crushed her and his words mocked her.<br><br>He lifted off just enough so he could prod between her legs with his manhood. It was her last chance to plead with him. “Mengar, no!” She closed her legs to him, but his initial thrust was strong enough to break through the levee of her thighs. Sybil shrieked inside the crook of her elbow, hoping to muffle the sound so none of her brethren came to see what was going on. She couldn’t risk them getting hurt on her behalf. After all, she’d done something to deserve this treatment, right?<br><br>No. The entire time Mengar had been gone, she’d prayed for his safe return. It was her sacrifice that brought him and his aid to the temple, but she never thought actions like this would be part of the bargain. She was free of deceit, guilt and remorse when it came to her mate; she was innocent. Which was why she chose to act against him.<br><br>One arm cushioned her face so it wouldn’t scrape against the stone floor, leaving the other free to reach beneath her, between her legs and grip his thrusting cock. She shifted so he popped out of her and her arm came back up, elbow bent to crash into the side of his face. Her fingers went numb with the force of it, but it didn’t prevent her from doing it again and again, aiming for whatever part she could connect with that might get him off of her.<br><br>She then flipped so she was on her back and used her own natural tools against him. Her fingers clawed at him and her feet kicked, and should he get low enough, she would even use her teeth. Sybil fought like her life depended on it, regardless if it was her chosen mate that was on the receiving end. She would not submit to him this time, not willingly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Sacrifice (impishcharm &amp; marauder13)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>marauder13</strong> on <strong>20-08-2015, 02:06:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The initial slam of Sybil's elbow into his head had two significant effects on Mengar. The first was complete surprise that she would actually fight back while he was in the war form. It was one that's sole purpose was to kill and destroy, even down to the main thought processes going through Mengar's mind. To have Sybil react with such violence was completely unexpected. The blow also delivered a sharp pain that blossomed on his face for a few moments before it faded under Mytar's blessings on the form. The other effect of the blow was how it stopped his thoughts, and focused on her actions. At first, he took her actions as guilt for her betrayal of him, yet the way she fought was more frenzied, more in keeping with one fighting for their life, rather than to fend off her mate from claiming her. The pause gave her a few more good hits to his face with her elbow, one that cracked a bone.<br><br>His pause also gave Sybil the chance to move her self to a better position to retaliate, and she did so with a fury that inspired him, and concerned him slightly. She clawed at him, her fingers and nails lacking the natural strength to get past his hide, yet did nothing to stop the onslaught she rained on him. Her feet left quickly faded bruises until she managed to hook her feet in the right spot, and managed to shift his weight enough to marginally move him off to one side. Mengar allowed the momentum to continue his movement, freeing his mate from the prison his body had served.<br><br>The deep rooted primal anger wanted to punish her for her assault on him, as well as her betrayal, but the small part that was still Mengar cried out against it. Anything that happened in that form would be lethal to Sybil, and that would be tantamount to a sin before his Master. The growl that escaped his lips was low and menacing, frustration mixed with anger as muscles rippled in need to make actions occur. The wicked talons that tipped his digits on the front paw like hand scratched the tiled floor, squealing in protest as furrows appear in the floor. He lifted his snout and bellowed a howl full of pain.<br><br>"Why?!? Smell him... on mate. Why him?"<br><br>The last word ran into yet another howl of pain. He wanted to punish her for what she had done, but he couldn't for it would end badly for them both. he was trapped between the two different minds in the contest for control. Finally, both agreed on the same course of action, and he ran. Mengar nearly tore the door off the hinges as he opened it. He wanted to run right through it, not caring about the obstacle, until they both remembered it was the door to His most sacred place within the temple, and they were both clear headed enough to know not to anger their Master like that.<br><br>Other servants who were not quick enough to get out of the way of the large, fast paced mountain of coarse fur were simply knocked over or out of the way as he took the shortest route out of the temple. He knew that more than a few sported broken or fractured bones, but that was none of his concern. He had to go before his control was lost. Once out of the buildings and into the courtyards, Mengar allowed himself to go onto all fours, and use all the speed he was gifted with to get out into the forests closest to the temple.<br><br>The rage was returning, the intense desire to punish Sybil and... that male. The human Mengar was scared by what he had witnessed of himself, of what he contemplated doing, particularly to Sybil. Yet he smelled the other one on her, a strong scent of the other one. The scent could only be that strong if they had been physically close, and for a long time.<br><br>Mengar wrapped his hand around a young tree, maybe a decade old from the size of the trunk, and ripped it from the ground. With a cry of rage, the slammed the top end of the uprooted plant into the ground, shattering branches and causing a small shower of twigs and leaves. He bellowed an roars as he clubbed several other trees with the rapidly diminishing club until he crushed the remains in his hand. Mengar fell to his knees, fading back into his human body, tears running down his cheeks as a different pain overwhelmed him.<br><br>Overhead, an owl landed on the nearest branch, watching the heaving, sobbing man with unblinking eyes, and one of the many packs that wandered the wooded lands surrounded one that they knew was a brother, and waited respectfully.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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