(Alkrdaam) He Who Fights Monsters (Perfectlypolished)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Alkrdaam on 14-11-2012, 05:19:34</h2>
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				Title: <strong>(Alkrdaam) He Who Fights Monsters (Perfectlypolished)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alkrdaam</strong> on <strong>14-11-2012, 05:19:34</strong>
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				It was a chilly winter day, but not quite as much as he was accustomed to. These southern kingdoms had fairly mild weather year round, with a light frost each winter, and warm rainy summers. It was a land with bountiful fields and lush forests, and they had few true enemies. They were a major trade hub, and were even known to send free food and medicine to those in need, sometimes without expecting anything in return. But this time, they did have one request. They supposedly had a monster problem, or more importantly, a demon problem. These beasts were killing the farmers and destroying their fields. The once peaceful nation had only recently been introduce to the threat of monsters. Within these last two years, several small forts and strongholds had been erected across the land. Many town halls had been converted into half-secured garrisons, though these small improvements meant nothing to a strong enough creature. This was also the first time that the kingdom had ever reported having a bandit problem, and in response every town had their own execution grounds. Somewhere with a guillotine, set of gallows, and sometimes something meant for humiliation and torture. More often than not, the more humanoid creatures of this land were executed in the same manor as a human criminal, something that amused Wolf.<br><br>He'd been in this land just enough to know that everyone was afraid, and that made them rather xenophobic, suspicious of everyone who didn't seem to fit their norm. He seemed to be one of the few armed men in this country, and as best as he could tell he was the only one carrying a bastard sword (http://media-cache-ec5.pinterest.com/upload/191895634093296738_AZOIzmGZ_c.jpg) and heater shield (http://www.skyrimdl.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/Screen-Shot-2555-01-28-at-1.34.13-PM.png). More even that that, he was a little more than six foot tall, and had odd features. His hair was long and blonde, his eyes ice blue, and his skin a much more pale complexion than those of the men and women around him. His voice held a slight accent, somewhere between German and Faeroe. Yet for all of his exotic and handsome looks, his eyes and voice told a different story. If one looked into his soul, they'd see a seasoned warrior, one who cared only for the dead, and those soon to join their ranks. Looking around, he could easily tell that they were suspicious of his appearance. In these lands, the people had slightly more bronzed skin, darker brunet or black hair, and normally had either chestnut or hazel eyes. Sometimes someone would be born with red hair and green eyes, but even that was looked at with mistrust. Difference in this time was a bad omen rather than a blessing. That thought made Wolf smile as he stepped through the village, many looking upon him with mistrust and awe.<br><br>After all; his shield bore the emblem of a monster hunter, and his sword's carved hilt bore the emblem of his northern tribe. Those who knew what those items meant sometimes offered him a nod of approval, a show of respect, and stayed out of his path. Others simply avoided him outright. This wasn't anything different for him. Years of wandering to monster infested lands had left him with few friends, his only allies being the other monster hunters. It was a sad fact that even many of them believed Wolf had gone off the deep end, being consumed by his career. But that was about to change. Karma, fate, the gods... the powers that rule, whatever you wish to call them, had something special planned for Wolf.<br><br>He didn't know it yet, but there was about to be an execution. The girl had been their prisoner for a little less than a week. During that time she'd been beaten, raped, and starved nearly to death. All to try and coax a confession from her. Today was her last chance. If she confessed, they would grant her a quick death. If not, she'd be tortured to death publicly. In the eyes of the people, it didn't matter. She was just a monster, an abomination, a creature that insulted their gods simply by existing. She was a killer of their men and women, the one who'd burnt their fields the night before being captured! Or at least, that was their thought. In truth, she was but a scapegoat. Wolf didn't know it yet, but he would finally meet his match. He would finally find the one monster he couldn't kill...<br><br>((My appearance inspiration for Hroödulf (Aka, "Wolf") is this. (http://image.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/517219/517219,1305414231,14/stock-photo-nordic-warrior-77225872.jpg)))
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				Title: <strong>Re: (Alkrdaam) He Who Fights Monsters (Perfectlypolished)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>perfectlypolished</strong> on <strong>16-11-2012, 23:37:41</strong>
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				The air had been crisp that night, the sky clear and the wind cold. The sleepy little town was just preparing to settle in for the night, children finishing dinner and being tucked warmly into their beds, the last of the farmers finally creeping in from a long day in the fields, tending to one of the most bountiful harvests that the village would have seen this year. All was well on the human side of the world.<br><br>However, things were not nearly quite as simple and peaceful on the demonic end of the universe. Deep, deep below the sleeping children, farther down than the root of the crops could ever reach, a whole other world lay awake, breathing, hungry, angry. Birthing literally from the fires of hell itself, these...things, writhed in wickedness. Their skin, dark and scale like, similar to that of a lizard. Horns, different upon each, just as thick and black, humans having compared them to those of a rams. Wings, thick, black wings, their primary source of movement. The very sound those things made as their wings pushed them from the earth, those who knew it knew it well, and learned quickly to fear any sounds in the night. Their snake like tails flicked and wove to and fro, an indication of their current mental state. Monsters, demons, devils, they had many names, but one thing stayed with this particular breed through every story and every tale, they liked death. Feasting upon the souls of the dead, not even allowing for a chance to pass to the afterlife, to the peacefulness of a real death. It was on that peaceful human night did things go awry. The pack leader, finally fed up with the worthlessness of his pathetic little minion, chose to wreck both havoc in the lives of their future meals and in the life of his puny servant. <br><br>Being born the runt of a litter made for a sore life, quite literally. Having spent a life being beaten, broken and abused in ways that nary a human would ever dare to dream of, one poor demon soul would end tonight. Or, so the plan was. Her wings torn from her petite frame, leaving two gaping chasms within her backside, blood quickly pooling and over flowing from within. With one clawed hand around her tiny throat, she was tossed, quite literally, from beneath the earth. An explosion to the humans, an explosion of burning earth and fire spewing from the gates of hell. A figure flew from the earth, through their fields, bring the fires of below with her, setting anything she touched blazing into the night.<br><br>As the fire around her figure died down, the one in the fields roared on. The villagers scrambled, using their precious water supply to quiet the blaze, by then the chasm to the underworld had sealed itself from them, leaving only a massive, crater sized burn on the earth, one that was so tainted that grass would refuse to grow there in the years to follow. The girl, a curled up mass of ever gushing blood, normally a demon could recover from physical wounds quite quickly, but with a wound this severe, it took but all her energy just to keep her delicate eyes open long enough to see a swarm of humans surround her. Then nothing.<br><br>She awoke, her head reeling, blood still dripping down her bare spine. She stood there, her bare nude form glistening from her own blood. She was much too weak to keep her armor up, the scales of her demonic form, so bare and helpless she stood. For how many days she wasn't sure, but they beat her relentlessly, calling her murderer. Murderer. It was funny, because never once has she killed a human herself, too slow and useless she was told, but she didn't need as much life force as the others of her kind, basic animal flesh was enough for her smaller body. <br><br>Every now and again she would have a moment of clarity, lifting her head and growling, forcing her scales forth, lashing out with her tail and snarling hungrily at her captors. Her small attempts would stop them from beating her for about an hour or so, before she would pass back out. Today they had her chained up against a tree, whipping her naked body. She looked very human without her scales, with the exception of her dark, blood covered tail, and the horns that wrapped down behind her ears. They were screaming out her louder than usual today,&nbsp; demanding a confession that she was too weak to even give. Something felt different today though, perhaps fate would be kind today and finally allow her to die. She could only hope. Her red, dull and practically lifeless, eyes shown through beneath her long strands of black hair that fells just to breast before curling softly at the ends. "<strong>..just kill me</strong>" She managed, her first words since she had been captured, her body finally healing fast enough to give her words. <strong>"please..</strong>" <br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: (Alkrdaam) He Who Fights Monsters (Perfectlypolished)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alkrdaam</strong> on <strong>17-11-2012, 03:09:28</strong>
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				The torturer had a wide, well motivated smile. He was enjoying this. Enjoying it far too much... that look in his eye went unknown to many, unnoticed by the cheering masses, who cried out for confessions. Confessions of what? People dying naturally around them? Plague and famine; infections from nails or sharp metal in untreated wounds; even one odd claim that she'd taken a woman's husband away while she slept. Panic. Paranoia. All of them were weapons that this town's inquisitor had grown too accustomed to using, and was more skillful with than his whip. With every crack of that useless device, Wolf grew one step closer. With ever cheer, his pace sped up so very slightly. With ever drop of blood spilled, he felt his heart beat once more than usual, his blood beginning to boil. As the demon woman begged for death, the executioner and his crowd let forth a roaring laugh at her pitiful state. They called out for the confessions, even as she said those words, knowing good and damn well that whatever she told them would be a lie. <em>Pathetic fucking humans...</em><br><br>It wasn't until that thought crossed his mind that Wolf realized where he even was, in the front of the crowd, stepping toward the torturer. "You people are pathetic. Killing a monster is one thing; such an act is admirable at best, and at worst, there's one lest hell spawn. But <em>this</em> is just <em>wrong</em>." Wolf said, sparing no time as he walked into the face of the executioner, who was full of adrenaline and testosterone. And then the man made the mistake of bowing up at Wolf, starting to say something to some extent, and waving his whip around as he did.<br>"Oh, and do you know what's going on here Mister? This girl-..." As the man opened his ignorant mouth with that beginning statement, Wolf eagerly assisted him in shutting it, placing his right hand about the weaker man's neck.<br>"Allow me to teach you something, because you're either too dumb or too afraid to see it yourself. This girl is the runt of her kind; someone of he class has no need to kill, and typically no desire to. Killing her would be akin to killing a <em> starving mouse</em> as it scavenged for scraps of food. But torturing her... now that's just fucking <strong>wrong</strong>!" Wolf said, his last word coming our as a booming roar, his arm tossing down the inquisitor hard enough to knock what little breath was left out of his lungs.<br><br>As the man skittered for safety, crying out to his gods, Wolf all at once became a towering fortress between the demon girl and village, and the proverbial hard place for the girl's future. Here he was, full intent on killing her, but disgusted by their show. And the people cried out at him, calling him a monster as their frenzy grew. Accusing him of being a witch, or a servant of dark powers. "My shield and my sword are proof of my loyalty; I serve no kingdom, no god, and no damned monster! I am a hunter by trade, and a warrior by birthright. I am Hrödulf Domhnall, and you... you people are the worst monsters I have laid by eyes upon. I have spent mere moments watching this vulgar display of cowardice, and have seen you use tactics that even the devil himself is above using." He said, his words bringing with them fierce accusations, and a sliver of truth. He spared no more breath arguing with the masses of people, instead drawing his blade and turning, holding it into the air. Aimed to kill, for just a split second, he found himself hesitating. Instinct, perhaps? Was this girl toying with him? No... she was far too weak, too helpless to be doing this intentionally, let alone know it was happening. <em>This is wrong, Hrödulf. This is not honor...</em><br><br>It wasn't so much a voice, or even a feeling, but a mere fleeting thought. She was weak, bound, and had been beaten senseless. Had he been a man with more heart, he'd have been moved to tears, but the only thing he could feel was rage. And he really had no idea where to direct it, even as he stood there with sword raised. The people held there breaths, their voices silent. They awaited the outcome, as did Wolf. Yet when his sword lowered in that powerful slash, the chains came free of that cursed tree, but the demon girl was no worse for the wear. The tree sported a gash that looked as if a few axe swings had landed in that exact spot. He'd made a decision in that split second, the gash being right beside her neck. He had spared her, for reasons he didn't know, all the while being berated by people he fucking hated. And yet, the only thing that could make it to his face was a small smile. All of his rage was still there, hidden behind his eyes. But when he knelt down to check on the bleeding girl, his smile was kind and genuine. "... It seems that the fates have spoken. Today is not your day to die. I will give you a chance." He said in a calm manor, in spite of the angry and fearful people, who'd begun taking off in all directions now that she was freed. "I swear upon my father's name, if you attempt to flee me, I will slay you. But until then, we need to tend your wounds."
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