The Hunt (Chantal & Cerigo)
<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: Chantal on 04-09-2013, 21:00:44</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chantal</strong> on <strong>04-09-2013, 21:00:44</strong>
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				“I will make you pay for that...!” A beautiful although quite dirty brunette whispered these words with hatred, but the man, who was the recipient of this affection, didn't react. He was walking steadily next to a really big, bronze horse. The horse was pulling a small cart occupied by the cage in which the brunette was locked.&nbsp; Her full, perfectly shaped lips were pale, when she was whispering over and over. “You don’t know what you have done…” The man didn’t react to these words again as he didn’t react to anything she did or said since he had imprisoned her several days ago. <br><br>Still Iyzabel couldn’t understand how he had managed to capture her. Had he added something to the vine they had drunk together? It seemed impossible, cause it had been her who had poured it. Additionally drugs had no affect on her kind, so it had to be something else. Something what had drained her strength rapidly, leaving her weak, limp, almost unconscious. Obviously no one had objected when the man had been carrying her outside the inn, no one had followed them into the darkness. No one had seen him throwing her fragile body into the rough cage, hiding her under a dirty blanket. No one had seen the cart leaving the city at the daybreak, even guards hadn’t reacted. Only after few hours she had regained control over her body enough to discover that they were in the wild, far away from areas inhabited by humans. It truly scared her especially that they were moving towards the forest on the west. She had to break free and return to the town somehow. Her cage was strong, metal bars were tough, but she could probably break free anyway if only she would have strength to do that. However the substance which had drained her strength earlier was still inside her body. She was as weak as if she hadn’t been eating for months - she could do nothing more than laying on the bottom of the cage.<br><br>They traveled.<br><br>Iysabele was not recovering as fast as she would expected. Actually she was not recovering at all almost. Day after day she was helpless, extremely week, laying in the cage, able only to observe the surroundings. First shades of fear appeared in her heart, but she chased them away. She strongly believed she will get better and have her revange. It was just a matter of time. She was watching the man day after day, just waiting for his single mistake which would give her an advantage and possibility to break free. But he have done no mistake yet, he was calm like a stone, feeling no strong emotions. She could feel that and it added to her frustration and anger. She tried everything - awakening pity in his heart, regret, fear, desire of any kind, lust, curiosity but nothing worked. He behaved as if she was not there.<br><br>They traveled.<br><br>The tenth day of their travel it started to rain. Usually Iyzabel had nothing against the rain. The water falling down her body was giving many possibilities usually, but right now it was only another annoying factor. Her sensual red dress was not only dirty now, but also soaked. Her shining, recently black hair were not the pretty frame of her alluring face, they were only wet strands sticking to her naked shoulders in a very annoying way. To her amazement the man was not really looking for a shelter from the rain, even for the night. He just covered himself with a thick blanket and fell asleep, ignoring her requests as usual, paying much more attention to the horse - as usual.<br><br>They traveled.<br><br>Frustration and irritation was growing inside Iyzabel sitting in the cage, constantly observing the back of her oppressor, who was guilty of all this. If she was able to break free she would tear that man apart. But she was too weak, still too weak to stand on her own legs, not to mention doing something more. Iyzabel entertained herself imagining tortures she could provide to his immobilized body, making him beg her to kill him, but those were dreams with little chances to become real. The man was still ignoring her completely, as if she was a pile of stones. He didn’t even offer her food or water once. Suddenly she asked herself how long humans are able to live without food or water. <br><br>Her grim thoughts were interrupted by a sudden crack followed by the loss of balance of the cart. Iyzabel shouted surprised - her heavy cage slid to the side quickly and turned over to the side. Iyzebel fell on its metal bars, but it was not the impact what caused her to scream with disgust. The forest undergrowth got into her mouth and eyes. She started spitting, wiping her face coated now with some wet bits of plants.<br><br>“Damn it.” The man spoke and Iyzabel immediately looked at him, but those words were the only proof that the broken wheel surprised and worried her oppressor. To Iyzabel’s further frustration he was still calm and even this accident didn’t interrupt his composure. <em>"How can anyone be so calm for so long??"</em> She wondered with irritation, cleaning her face.<br><br>The man walked back to the broken cart, still ignoring the beautiful brunette in the fallen cage, fully focusing on the wheel. “Well, Kelpie, we have a problem.” He spoke, addressing his words to the horse like he was doing their whole travel. “We need a new wheel and I am afraid there is no wheelwright nearby. I will see what I can do, but it really looks bad…” The man sighed, left his swords on the horseback and took a hatchet. “Wait here for me.” He patted horseback and walked into the trees.<br><br>During this monotonous travel Iyzebel frequently wondered how insane this man has to be to call a horse with the name of the sea demon. Obviously he was very insane capturing her, but now Iyzebel asked herself if this horse is a real Kelpie. She tried to give the horse a closer look, even call it, but it didn’t react to her words and from this perspective all she could see was horse's rump with a wet tail. Still the horse appeared to be a normal animal, eating leaves slowly, what was the best indicator of its origins.<br><br>Her miserable situation, the intense smell of the forest after the rain and grogginess were probably the reasons she felt a new human so late. Immediately she realized that it can be her chance for freedom, if that traveler would find her before her captor would return. Unfortunately she was too weak, there was nothing she could do to lure the traveler to the place where the cart was, so it was only the matter of the luck if he would find her and come on time. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cerigo</strong> on <strong>23-09-2013, 03:02:43</strong>
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				Demon. It was a word that would send shivers up any sane man. It would cause many to make a sign against evil less they would draw the attention of the very things that were named. To the initiated, it only caused the heart rate to increase, their breathing to steady, and their mind to be plunged into a state of deep and perpetual calmness. This calmness let their bodies react in a way that was almost on the level of instinct. When dealing with the supernatural every second counted. They were often faster, stronger, and far more willing to sacrifice anything they could get their claws into to survive. These people, these sane normal people only wanting to go on with their lives, to feed their families and above all survive; they cried out to the darkness for anyone that was willing to help them. Their requests were punctuated by the tears of loved ones that were ripped from their arms by beings that they could barely fathom. The cries would be answered, the tears that fell would be counted and returned upon the beasts but above all the darkness would be reclaimed. The hunters brought hope and with that hope the people would begin to believe that they too could stand against the darkness.<br><br>That hope did not come without a price. The hunters were just as marked as their prey. They were shrouded in the mystery of a second world. They were no longer apart of the society they stood above it or some thought, below. So they traveled, from one city to the next. Never staying long enough, never having that human connection. Instead they were given whispers, rumors of the next hunt. Some became dark, even bitter when it came to the world that called them. Others used humor as a shield. Marcus, was a combination of both. A mirror that could reflect both sides. There was purpose to his stride as he followed the trail but on the surface there was a gentle smile that graced his features. A gentle roll of his shoulder was the reminder of the burden that he carried. A sword, one that came at a cost that was constant reminder of the stakes. That did not matter right now. The trail that crossed his path now was one that he had seen before. There was a certain taste to it. Not that he needed to physically taste it but that was the only sense that could apply. It was a feeling and now…now he was faced with a choice. <br><br>Let the first trail go cold, loosen the noose that he was slipping around the demon’s neck, or follow this one. More than likely whatever the fallen hunter had planned was going to involve the infernal fire and an innocent soul. There were some that believed that they could fight fire with fire, that the life of one innocent was worth the greater goal of saving more. It was not something that Marcus could ever believe in. Was not the entire point of what they did to save the innocents? Killing one, sacrificing one, damning one to the fallen it was worth it. They had to be stopped. Slowly he rose up from the ground letting the dirt slip through his fingers and settle back on the ground. “It is only a few days old,” the hunter spoke to no one in particular. Yet he could only roll his shoulder a bit. The weight of the sword urging him forward. “Yes… yes I know. No matter what we choose it is going to cause some pain. The greater good. Is that not the same slippery slope that the Fallen say?” Marcus could only nod slightly as he turned back to his horse. He was three days behind and the lead was only increasing.<br><br>If he road hard and there was a little bit of luck. Okay, a lot of luck. It was not going to be the first time he chased him. Hopefully it would be the last. Vaulting up into the saddle, he took a moment to pat his gloved hand over the neck of the black mare. “Are you ready for a run girl?” The horse could only neigh softly, a gentle shake of its head but started to move forward. “I know we did not get to stop as long as we planned, but look at it this way. We get to stretch our legs now.” Pulling his wide brimmed hat down; he loosened the rains. “Now Myst, let’s find this bastard once and for all.”<br><br>* * * *<br>A flash of a grin and they were off. He traveled quickly. Not having anything more than the clothing on his back, the armor underneath and a small pouch of food for him and the horse let him gain quickly. The raid helped. It felt good as it washed over his hat and down his cloak. It would ruin the roads and wash away the physical tracks but there was a wagon ahead of him. It was loaded with something heavy and the rain would cause it to move even slower. Marcus grinned again. He was gaining on them.<br><br>* * * *<br><br>There was a clearing and the wagon that Marcus had been tracking was nearby. This was when it started to get dangerous. He was tired and the goal was in reach, this was when mistakes happened. He slid from the horse, careful to silence the subtle jingling of the metal armor links. A whispered word to the horse had her ears facing forward ever on the lookout. One last task was to check the clearance of his sword. The rain and the cold could cause the metal to stick. It was clear, now he just had to stick to the edges of the tree. He could see that there was someone in the cage but right now that did not matter. They were secured and could not take action against him. Slowly, Marcus circled the area only after surveying that his original quarry was not around did he break from the tree line.<br><br>He closed on the edge, “Be still. You are safe now but I am not sure for how long.” His eyes looked over to see the poor woman. Whatever the fallen hunter had plans for this girl it was not going to be good. She was being kept alive and by the state of the supplies there was not much in the way of food or water. That meant she was not going to be alive for much longer. A sacrifice? Now was not the time for conjecture. He needed to get her free which meant that the lock had to be next. He moved over to it, examining it. Marcus was never a thief, picking the lock was going to be right out. The hunter drew his sword, the moment the sword touched the air it seemed to glow with a soft light. A holy weapon. Few could hold such a weapon but it sat at peace in his hand and yet he did not bear the mark of any holy order. “Stand back. This is going to be loud and if he is anywhere nearby he will come running.”<br><br>A quick arc of steel broke the lock. ”My name is Marcus.” He held out his hand as the door swung upon. The other hand pushed up the wide brimmed had. The road had been kind to him a fine layer of stubble along his chiseled features. His long black hair was mostly tucked under the hat but the parts that were free were slick from the rain. It was his blue eyes that were the most striking but underneath it all was a kindness that would have been missed from the previous captor. “My horse is a ways back can you walk or do I need to carry you?”<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chantal</strong> on <strong>25-09-2013, 23:49:08</strong>
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				The view of this traveller coming closer to her cage was like a view of an incarnated freedom approaching. <br><br>Iysabele evaluated the man quickly - his strong arms, handsome but not too delicate features, practical clothes and, to her joy, a sword. Certainly he was a warrior type, what was very handy -&nbsp; he could be a weapon of her revenge. The fact she felt no stronger emotions from the newcomer yet didn’t really bother her - being a warrior he could be used to the view of captured, miserable people… however she was not going to look just miserable.<br><br>Iysabele, the delicate, beautiful brunette appeared as weak and helpless but also a bit alluring in the rough, strong cage, which was more appropriate for wild animals than fragile women like her. Her now clothed shoulders trembled slightly, her slender fingers held metal bars of the cage desperately. Her emerald eyes were almost in tears, when she begged in whispers. “Please, help me. He will be back soon… He is going to hurt me. He said I will end like the others…”&nbsp; Hope, trust and fear emanated from her whole posture. “Please… don’t leave me here.”<br><br>Iysabele couldn’t do much in her current condition, but slight adaptation of her outlook to her needs was easy and instinctive, she didn’t need more energy for this than for speaking. She didn’t have a chance to feel man’s reaction to her look and adapt it yet, but some basics always worked - breasts pressing against the fabric of the modest, dark red dress; top tie torn, revealing a deep, dark valley between her breasts more than any decent woman would want to; narrow waist beautifully underlined by perfectly shaped corset - all this should at least make a man’s heart jump and blood rush faster in his veins. However she couldn’t look perfectly - she spent a week in the cage and was treated badly by her captor after all - dark, nasty bruises could be seen on her wrists, as if someone held her way too strong. There was a cut on her right cheek, still not healed; some blood on her dirty, soaked dress; shadows under her eyes, proving her exhaustion. She didn’t allow herself to smell badly though, Iysabele didn’t want her savior to hesitate even a bit. A delicate scent of wet hair, skin and clothes was neutral and natural enough.<br><br>The long wished freedom came with the ringing sound of the broken lock and the touch of hefty arms taking her light body out from the cage. She cuddled up against this strong man, who carried her so easily after she admitted how weak she was. Her head rested against his shoulder comfortably, her eyes - hypnotizing, emerald eyes - looked at him with unlimited trust. “Thank you… you are a real gentleman... thank you so much... I am Isabel.” She whispered, inhaling his male scent, which was a promise of a close feast. Her right hand moved up to his neck, to hold him as much as she could, but it was only an excuse to touch his naked, warm skin. This brief touch caused a sweet shiver running through her body and sharpened her appetite - she was certain that feeding would help her body to remove the toxic substance, but it had to wait. Now Iysabele had to secure her safety.<br><br>--<br><br>The loud sound of colliding metal echoed in the forest and the man immediately stopped his work with the wood. In a blink of an eye he realized the sound came from the direction of his cart. It could only mean one thing - someone was there and this person most probably freed the succubus. The demon hunter didn’t waste his time on thinking how unlikely it was - dealing with demons taught him to respect all the unlikeness in the world. Immediately he ran towards the cart, holding the hatchet in his hand&nbsp; - there was no time to waste. Every second mattered, even the weakened succubus could charm an unaware man easily. <br><br>The hunter ran as fast as he could, but in the moment he reached the cleaning he realized how bad the situation was. Not only the cage was open, but the succubus was already in the arms of a stranger, who was carrying her away. What’s worse the stranger had a sword with him. <br><br>The hunter could go to his horse for the sword to increase his chances in a direct fight, but he didn’t plan to start a regular fight.&nbsp; Not only there was no point to try to convince the man how dangerous this pretty woman was - the succubus would make sure that her victim would protect her till his death, but also he had to kill that man before he reached for his sword - the hunter was fully aware how desperately victims can protect demons enslaving them. The hunter had only a hatchet, but this man had his back to him - the hunter didn’t hesitate and silently ran directly towards the couple, ready to bury the hatchet deeply into the stranger’s body. <br><br>--<br><br>It was a sparkle of fear, which warned her. A sparkle which disappeared at once, but that feeling reached Iysabele immediately, even if she didn’t notice the scent of her captor. Iysabele didn’t need to look, she knew what was happening, but all she could do was to say in fear, “Behind you!” and let her arm go from behind Marcus' neck.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cerigo</strong> on <strong>12-10-2013, 06:13:30</strong>
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				It was difficult to focus. There were many reasons for it. The first and loudest one was the beautiful if not disheveled woman in his arms. The look that he stole would have been enough to take the breathe away from a normal man. If anything, Marcus understood why this one was picked. She would be quite a prize… the curve of her… no focus. There was still plenty of danger. Just because his quarry was not here did not mean he was far enough to not have been alerted by the sound. He drew in a slow breathe, hoping that the air would help clear his head. All it would take was one lapse of concen…that would prove to be a mistake. There were no perfumes but something that seemed so natural. The scent of her hair mingled with that of the forest and it caused the hunter’s step to falter if just for a moment. He needed to get his distance, there would be no helping her if he got himself killed because his mind and eyes were tracing the curve of her breast and not the line of the trees.<br><br>He tried to shush her slightly, his hand moving a little lower then was proper as he repositioned her weight. “A real gentlemen? No, not anywhere close to that. If I was a real gentlemen then..” her body seemed to stiffen. That was not a good sign. Immediately the mind of the hunter went into overdrive. Adrenaline flooded within his veins as he sought the reason for it. The rustle of the fabric as they moved, there… something in the distance it was quiet but it moved faster than it should. There was no time to react, too close too quick! Before she could even speak the warning he was moving. It was a roll forward, cradling the woman’s frame close to him so that the force of the ground was absorbed by his and not hers. It however was not fast enough.<br><br>The hatched struck but it was not a true blow. The sound of metal parting, of leather creaking and finally of flesh and bone yielding filled the air. Pain laced through his body and lit up his vision. The roll continued a trail of blood already starting to drip down from the wound and soak into the dirt. The shoulder felt like it was laced with fire but she was safe. That was what mattered. Marcus released her, coming up fully up on his feet and drawing the sword out in a smooth motion that spoke of the countless hours that spent training. The leather of the hilt fitting perfectly in his hand as the steel seemed to hum within the air, a song waiting to be released. “This is what is left of your honor?” it was meant to be cocky and sure but pain leaked into his voice and it came out in a lower register then was comfortable.<br><br>“You attack a brother… from behind? All for what? Another innocent to bring back to your master’s? How much blood is on your hand now? How much more will it take until you are finished?” The blade rose up as Marcus turned to his side offering a smaller target to his adversary. “You have a chance now. Renounce your path, turn around and leave. The others will not give this to you but I believe there is still something there… something worth fighting for. Show me…please…” he meant those words. If he could get the other man to take a step back, to find his way back to the path that would mean others could be saved. Yet even with the hope, the yearning to find a way to end this peacefully his eyes never stopped moving, his body relaxed and his breathing became almost rhythmic.<br><br>If there was going to be a fight he would not hesitate to strike him down, but there had to be that chance…<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chantal</strong> on <strong>13-10-2013, 20:31:41</strong>
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				Iysabel was impressed. She would be more if her savior wouldn’t get hit at all. So quickly he was aware of the danger and so smoothly he avoided it, keeping her safe all that time. She reached towards him with a gesture which could be read as a plea to not leave her or a gesture of concern, but in truth she reached to absorb this little wisp of pain he felt. It was not the favorite feeling of her, but she could feed on it as well. She hoped her oppressor would suffer a lot before death, but most of all she wanted to be near, if any of them would die. The closer she would be, the more energy escaping from a dying body she would be able to absorb. <br><br>The hunter immediately realized it was not an ordinary warrior standing in front of him. No one without a specific training would manage to escape from this strike and recover so quickly. He strengthened his grip on the hatched, highly regretting now not going back for the sword. The hatched was too primitive weapon compared to the sword. After unsuccessful first attack, hunter's chances dropped. However he could see the blood oozing from the wound already. Maybe he could play for time, make that man tired and increase own chances to win this fight, especially that the stranger began talking. <br><br>He took a fast look at the succubus. She was still weak, glaring at him, certainly desiring his death. He couldn’t ignore her position, she was strong enough to hold his leg and turn the fight into the favor of his opponent. He was trying to circle his enemy to make him walk around the creature, if he wanted to not have her on his way. Time worked on his favor, unless the succubus was gaining power somehow. <br><br>“A brother…?” The hunter answered, to keep the conversation going. “If you were my brother you would know that blood in my hands was shed for the greater good. No one is innocent and she is as evil as any of them.” He felt something in his mind, a slimy touch, which told him that the succubus was trying to reach him. He shook his head, realizing he didn’t have time. If he was going to attack and win this, he would have to do it now.<br><br>The hunter staggered, as if he stumbled, to lure the opponent. He expected his enemy to use the opportunity and attack frontwards, so he led the attack from the side, aiming for stomach. The hatched didn’t allow him to parry any attack - it was slow, not too sharp, so he had to put all his strength to this attack. He did and if he wouldn't hit, the power of this attack would pull him forward enough to lose the balance.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cerigo</strong> on <strong>19-10-2013, 07:40:03</strong>
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				Time was an enemy. Every beat of his heart was another reminder that time was draining away his strength and with it a chance at making it out of this alive. It would have been easy, there was a slight hitch in the other man’s gait, an old wound that would make him slower on the left. A flash of steel, the splinter of wood and the dull sound of flesh separating and it would be done. It was tempting, to come out of this alive and with an enemy dead at his feet but that is how it started. The slippery path that would lead him to looking at everything for the greater good… the word echoed in his mind as surely as it was spoken. That was how they would justify themselves. What was one innocent life it would save a hundred. One death, then another, until the pile of bodies that were spent equaled to those that it would save.<br><br>“They always say that you know. What is one more right? One more drop of blood and for what? What do you hope to accomplish?” There was no need for the other man to answer. Marcus had an answer. There would be no coming back, even watching him was proof enough. The way he almost staggered, trying to shake off what ever had infected his mind. For a moment it looked like he would pull through, awaken from the cloud of evil that had surrounded him. It was not to be.<br><br>The man moved, but there was something wrong. The man was clearly nervous about the sword, his eye constantly flicking over to it. It meant he understood what it would mean in the hands of someone trained to fight. Yet even a man who had lost everything, was willing to sell his soul did not survive this long without having a suitable amount of skill. An easy mistake like forgetting his footing and stumbling was clearly a ploy. Yet if Marcus did not act on it, the opening would not present itself. So he moved, his sword moving as though he were about to catch it and force a non-lethal confrontation.<br><br>Before the swing was completed Marcus paused, the sword shifted in his grip and immediately turned to a reverse hold. The blade pointing down to catch the axe. “I am sorry that it came to this, rest in peace brother.” It was only a second, but Marcus arced the blade up as though he were completing an uppercut. The steel sung as it slipped through bone. What would have been just a lethal blow became an almost instant death with the forward momentum of the older man. A flash of light, and the sickening thud followed by another as both pieces of the former man settled to the ground.<br><br>In a single movement Marcus cleaned the blade on his cloak and settled it home. It let him turn to see the woman fully again. “I am sorry, M’lady Isabel, that you had to see that.” He turned to look back at the body. It would not be fitting to leave the man to the scavengers. “It will take a moment but we will need to prepare a grave.” He drew in a slow breathe.<br><br>It was the least he could do, and if the situation had been reversed, he hoped that someone would do the same.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chantal</strong> on <strong>22-10-2013, 22:09:33</strong>
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				The hunter didn’t know when the blow came. He didn’t feel pain, just something cold entering his flesh and then the ground hit him. He was dying. He was smart enough to know that and the hot fluid wettening his clothes rapidly was another prof. He looked at the poor, doomed man, who just delivered the killing blow, and then on the succubus, who watched his death lustfully, predatory. He saw a hunger and the overwhelming triumph in these terrifying, completely black, demonic eyes. Her shapely lips formed unspoken words, “I win.”&nbsp; <br><br>A silent words left hunter lips with some blood, “She is not…” but before he finished, he stopped breathing. <br><br><br>Iysabel regretted that her oppressor died so fast. He felt no pain, no fear. She was close enough to absorb almost all the energy escaping from the dying body, but to her anxiety it didn’t strengthen her enough. Apparently the substance was very hard to remove, she would need much more energy. However Iysabel didn’t worry about it for long, focusing on the presence instead -&nbsp; her captor was dead after all. She was free, free at last! If she could, she would tear this body to pieces with hatred and triumph, she would dance on it and bath in his blood, laughing aloud, but the circumstances didn’t allow to do this. She had to be satisfied just with his simple death.<br><br>When she realized that Marcus spoke and looked at her, Iysabel immediately stopped smiling. “Yes, you are right. He was a cruel, evil man, but no one deserves to be eaten by wild animals after death.” She lied smoothly, agreeing with him. Iysabel was like a chameleon, adjusting to the situation immediately, as everything she did drew her closer to her goal. “I am sorry, I am too weak to help you. But please, take care of the body. Maybe you can use the broken cart somehow.” After a moment she added, “You are a good man.”<br><br>Initially Iysabel wanted to feed on both men's deaths and go back to the town on her own. Unfortunately now she realized that killing the other man won’t be enough still. She was not even sure if draining all his energy and then killing him would be enough to remove the substance from her body. She needed that man alive. At least for now.<br><br>“Maybe you should tend this wound first, it is still bleeding…” Iysabel suggested with worried voice. “May I help you? I don't know how to heal wounds, but I will help you as good as I can.”<br><br><br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><em>correcting minor mistakes</em></span><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cerigo</strong> on <strong>27-10-2013, 21:02:28</strong>
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				The last words, they continued to haunt the hunter. What could he been trying to say? It was clear that it was within reference to the woman, could he truly believe that she was still not innocent and used his dying breath to communicate it? Was there more? Marcus could only steal a glance at the woman. His head tiled, had some color come back into her face? Then again she was probably terrified while within that cage and having any kind of captor would have drained the color out of any one. He pushed it to the back of his mind. Right now he had a job to do and wondering what the last words of a fallen hunter could mean was only inviting venom into his life.<br><br>“No,” he paused letting out a soft sigh, “He was not always cruel or evil. There was a time that he was one of the best that I had known. This is a lesson to all, that while we are the only ones willing to stare deep into the abyss that it always takes its pound of flesh in the end.” There was not more that he could say, so instead he started to busy himself looking for a tool along the cart that could be used to dig. The idea of digging a grave with only a dagger or a bloodied hatched did not sit well with him. It was only her words that brought him back from his tasks. Yes the wound. It would need to be tended to.<br><br>“Ah..” he gave a soft chuckle and shook his head, “what kind of savior would I be if after dispatching your captor that I died soon after, you are right. I guess I am not used to having someone else around.” He unbuckled his sword, carefully placing it next to him as though it were a revered object and started to undo the ties for his armor. Soon he was shrugging slowly out of the leather clothing, revealing a torso that was crossed with both old and new scars. The muscles were defined in a way that only a lifetime of hard work could bring. “Even if you could heal them I would not ask that of you, but if you have ever sewn before it would be very helpful.” It would need to be cleaned, an infection at this point would be just as deadly as anything else.<br><br>“I have a salve here…” he brought up a small vial filled with a green paste. “Would you mind? It will dull the pain and keep it from getting worse. The next part well it is just like sewing two pieces of cloth together.” The hunter settled on the ground to give her a better angle, the sword always within reach. He might have won, but he was far too experienced to ever be away from his blade.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chantal</strong> on <strong>01-11-2013, 11:41:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Never before Iysabele had held a needle in her hand, there was no need for this, also she had never seen a woman sewing.&nbsp; However she realized that sewing was something common among women, like cooking - another thing she had never done. In any other situation she wouldn’t bother with this problem, but right now she needed this man to live. She had to help him somehow. Most probably she could use own skills to do so - Iysabele was able to heal herself and with some difficulty maybe she would be able to heal someone else. She had never tried, but she was aware some of her sisters enjoyed doing this to humans while torturing them. Unfortunately this was a risky option at the moment. First - she was so weak that trying to heal someone could end up with her falling into a state close to coma. Second - she had to make sure he remained convinced that she was a normal woman. <br><br>Usually Iysabelle wouldn’t give a single thought to this problem, it wasn’t rare that her victims realized she was unnatural creature, but this glowing blade of his made her uneasy. This man had to be a kind of holy warrior, even if he didn’t look like one. There was a possibility that he had stolen this blade from someone else, but his words about being a one who stares into the abyss suggested him being someone different than a mercenary with a stolen, shining sword. The closeness of this blade caused unpleasant shivers on her back, it could probably deal quite a damage to her, but she was not going to find out.<br><br>Iysabelle hesitated for a moment, but eventually favored not using her skills and reveal her ignorance in sewing, “I have never done it. Maybe you can show me how to do this?” Her ignorance was great. She had absolutely no clue how the needle works and why a thread is there. <br><br>Succubus observed Marcus hands, when he explained her what to do. Quickly she understood the idea of using the needle and eventually she reached for the salve to use it on his wound. She did it very carefully, limiting it as much as she dared. It wasn’t in her interest to make him feel no pain. She needed him alive, that’s all. Any pain he felt strengthened her. <br><br>Iysabelle longed to feel much sweeter emotions, like lust, as the fear was too sticky and pain too sharp to her. Succubus preferred emotions rising slowly, softly, to a crazy, delicious intensity. Maybe later she could get from him what she wanted. For now pain had to do so she made far too many stitches and lingered with the needle inside his body a bit too much. Each time she felt she did something more painful, she explained herself, “I am sorry, did it hurt? ...It is really difficult, all this blood… I am trying to do this as fast as I can… You are really brave… You behave as if it didn’t hurt at all…” Her voice was filled with compassion and admiration.<br><br>When she returned the needle and the thread to him, she looked into his eyes, “I am really grateful you saved me. I wish I could thank you somehow… do something for you… something special.” It was just her first small step on the road leading to seducing him. He was injured, so it could take some more time, but she could wait and not force anything, yet. He would be hers sooner or later. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cerigo</strong> on <strong>09-11-2013, 01:57:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If the demoness was uncomfortable, the hunter did not notice it. Instead, his senses were focused outwardly. That was a courageous way to say that they were focused anywhere but upon his shoulder where soon there was going to be the very uncomfortable feeling of needle and thread being pulled through flesh. The first prick of the needle caused a slight set in his jaw line but there was no outward reaction to it. It was the constant starting and stopping that was going to hurt more. He had prepared himself for the entire unpleasant situation but having to pause and speak to her was making it so that each time he felt it anew. “No… not really. It is more uncomfortable the salve is quite potent so it is numbing it enough but I can still feel it… moving? I guess that is the right word.”<br><br>There was little that he could do with the blood. Maybe if he had some time he could try to enter some kind of trance to slow his heart rate down but that would put him to sleep. It was something that his body craved so that it could begin the healing process but it would leave them both vulnerable. There was no telling what other creatures might be lurking in the forest or if someone else saw the prize that the fallen hunter had gathered and wished to take it for themselves.&nbsp; That meant he had to feel every last pull of the thread, every last time that the needle bit into flesh. “Have you heard the saying… about mind over matter?” it was clear that his voice was slightly pained. Each time it dipped in the words were strained slightly. Even his breathe failed slightly, wavering on the exhale.<br><br>“Well, if I don’t mind… it…really doesn’t matter now does it?” There was a smile, a brave face more than anything. With the adrenaline fading pain was starting to bleed through the salve. That was not going to go well, but if he started to show just a little bit of the pain it would be like the crack of a damn. A trickle that would eventually turn into a full on flood. His only chance was to just flat out deny it. With a slight turn he let his eyes move over the exposed skin of the woman. She was certainly wonderful to look at, it was a nice distraction.<br><br>“There is no real need to thank me, this is part of why I chose this life… okay well maybe I did not really choose this.” The gaze turned to the weapon, its soft light causing the pain to ease if only just a little, “It chose me but I like to think that I can at least choose why I stay. So no… there is nothing..”he paused eyes closing and a fist balling up as he pushed more against the wall of pain. “That you really need to do but this is a very good start. We will need to move soon, and I hate to ask you this but do you know if he had any supplies?” He did not have more than enough for the two of us and if he was wounded, then there was going to need to be more food.<br><br>“We are several days out, so I am going to have to apologize but you are going to have to spend far more time with me then you may find comfortable. There was a river about half a day back, we might be able to clean up but if the rain keeps up… being dry might be the hardest part.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chantal</strong> on <strong>23-11-2013, 16:45:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				An unpleasant grimace swept through Iysabel’s face. <em>Why from all the holy warriors in the world she had to got stuck with the devoted one and it had to happen when she needed someone really horny? </em>She thought with a slight irritation.<br><br>Iysabele helped Marcus to put his clothes on, not shying away from stroking his skin gently here and there. She would love to kiss these wonderfully bulging muscles and lick them, to make him feel all these delightful shivers, which every normal man would love. Unfortunately with Marcus she had to be careful - holy warriors tend to have silly beliefs and preferences and she didn’t want to make things worse, not in her current condition.&nbsp; <br><br>“This sack on the cart has some food.” Iysabele answered to his question about supplies. “I don’t think he was going to stop traveling anytime soon. I can search his things while you will be taking care of… the body.” She offered and slowly stood up. “I am very weak, but I keep feeling better with every moment.” Iysabele forestalled his question, offering him a brave smile on her delicate face. “I think your presence has something to do with it.” She blushed pretty and turned her head away quickly, as if she wanted to hide the blush from him. <br><br>It took her a lot of time to go through all the things of the hunter, but since she had left the cage, she felt much better and now was able to walk a bit. She selected everything what appeared to be consumable by humans and took out the things used frequently by the hunter during their travel - the flint, blankets but also his sword and his dagger. She didn’t need any of these things, but she had to make sure her savior would stay alive as long as she needed him. <br><br>Iysabele also found a small, wooden chest which was locked. It didn’t smell well and had some strange marks on it. Iysabele didn’t like it so she hid it under the cart, hoping Marcus hadn’t noticed. <br><br>“We are several days out, so I am going to have to apologize but you are going to have to spend far more time with me then you may find comfortable. There was a river about half a day back, we might be able to clean up but if the rain keeps up… being dry might be the hardest part.” Marcus spoke suddenly and Iysabele looked at him instantly. After a second she smiled lovely, “There is no need to apologize. You will be a wonderful company, I am sure. So much better than my previous one.” With a sensual gesture she moved her hand behind her neck and slowly pulled her black curls to her back, revealing the beautiful line of her neck. Her other hand deliberately moved down from her jawline to her breasts. Her ivory skin contrasted pretty with her black hair and her red dress. “I am alright with the rain already… don’t worry about me.” Contrary to humans she couldn’t get sick because of the bad weather and she would appear as a person with a constitution of the horse… if he was not weakened already. “I will try to not be a heavy burden, but I may not be able to sit on my own on the horse for the whole day yet.” Probably she could, if he held the reins, but she didn’t want to. Staying close to him all day long would facilitate making him to think of her repeatedly. <br><br>“You said you didn’t really choose your life. What do you mean? What kind of life do you have? This sword of yours seems to be very unusual. I am not a weapon specialist, but it really looks differently, as if it was shining.” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunt (Chantal &amp; Cerigo)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cerigo</strong> on <strong>13-12-2013, 06:55:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was easy for the hunter to let his eyes close. The innocent touches, fingers dragging across his skin as the clothing was moved into place was far too easy to misconstrue as something more then what they were. There was always a challenge in finding a lover, there were plenty that would have no qualms about spending the night with the mysterious hunters of the dark but never more than that. It had become far easier to just forget about the needs of the flesh and concentrate on the tasks at hand. She started to speak again and it was clear that she had brought him back into the current state of affairs, her touches causing his mind to wonder far more then would be healthy or safe for either one of them.<br><br>“Food? Oh yes sorry” his head shook trying to fully clear it from the gentle haze that he was lured into. “That will help make sure we have enough supplies for the two of us. I was not looking forward to a few nights of having to pretend I was not hungry to make sure you did not waste away into nothing.” He turned a bit watching her as she moved. It was a challenge to not let his eyes follow her, despite her time in captivity she seemed remarkable well put together. Another shake of his head had him reaching for the shovel that, while under slight disrepair, would be more then suitable to dig a grave deep enough for the man to be undisturbed. No one deserved to have their flesh picked away by the animals. Marcus had to be careful as he started to dig, do too much and the wounds would open again but if he did not keep up a decent pace then it would be dark before he was able to finish and the idea of staying close to this cart was not something he was looking forward too.<br><br>“Wonderful company? I am afraid that your time with your captor might have warped your idea of what wonderful might be.” He gave her a smile, his head tilting as she brushed her hair back. It was only through force of will that he kept his eyes settled on her face instead of letting them travel down the curve of her neck and attempt to enjoy the other curves that she had to offer. The hole was starting to shape up as she poked about the wagon. “Be careful there, usually people of my order are known to keep something small, usually artifacts or other pieces of power. It is not something you want to touch without the right warding.”<br><br>Marcus was starting to grow tired, the hole was only a few feet deep it was going to have to be enough. Carefully he dragged the body over to it, searching it one last time to make sure there was not something that they could use or some kind of hint at what the greater mission might have been with this girl. If he had been alone he might have attempted to pose as the Fallen Hunter and gain entrance into whatever scheme they were cooking up. With a human sacrifice, it was not going to be one that would turn out well for anyone. “I would not want to sit on a horse that long either if I had been cooped up. A little bit of walking might be good for everyone.” Making a sign over the grave he started to fill it back up.<br><br>“That my dear Isabel, is a story for another time. I can say this that sometimes destiny, well she can be a real bitch. If you pardon my language.” He gave a low chuckle, obviously some kind of inside joke that only he would understand. “My life is largely solitary, I travel looking for those that have crossed the line and giving them a reminder of the dangers of such a life. Those that do not see the light well.” He lifted his head towards the sword. “You have a good eye for a fine blade. There is a story behind that sword or at least one that I have been told. It once belonged to a man of great power, they say he was thrice blessed by the gods themselves. How it came to me, well that too is yet another story but let’s say that it seems to have chosen me and saying no to such things proves to get painful… quickly.”<br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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