MM1-3C: What Now by zaqxsw

Poser • Fantasy • posted on Jul 17, 2018

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“What now… will you continue your High Hunt?” Coran asked curiously, gently stroked Taenya’s long snowy white hair while she lay nestled against him, as dawn began to break and the forest around them started to stir back to life. “I afraid not. The Hunt has to be performed on the first night of the first full moon each season… even if it isn’t successful, it can’t be attempted again until the next season... but, I still have my Run to complete,” she sighed idly, content to enjoy the simple moment of intimacy. “I need to retrieve the things I hid by the Halfaxe Trail… then I had intended to visit the Standing Stone… it’s something I’ve always wanted to see.” “That’s a two-day trek, even on the road,” he advised thoughtfully. “The northern ends of both the Halfaxe Trail and the Moonsea Ride are patrolled by Hillsfar’s Red Plumes, who are little better than bandits themselves and notorious for harassing non-humans, and the southern part of the Ride is watched by the Riders of Mistledale… who aren’t likely to be much more receptive to a drow.” “That’s the whole purpose of the Run,” she counseled tenderly, raising her head to look longingly into his eyes with a wistful smile. “If we only went where we’d be welcome it wouldn’t be a test of our faith and dedication to Eilistraee’s teachings.” “So, you have to perform this Run alone?” he inquired with a hint of concern in his voice. Recent experience had confirmed how well deserved the drow reputation for cruelty and sadism was and the denizens of the forest weren’t likely to recognize the difference between a priestess of Eilistraee and her typical kin on sight as he had. “I couldn’t be accompanied by any of my sister priestesses… but nothing prohibits anyone I meet from joining me,” she admitted with a hopeful glimmer in her pearly white eyes. A couple of hours trek through the trackless woodlands had them by the southern edge of the Halfaxe Trail, a nearly hundred-foot-wide, straight swarth cleared of trees and brush that ran diagonally from northwest to southeast through the thick forest; finally, having found the spot where Taenya hid her belongings before setting out on her High Hunt, naked, with only her sword to defend herself. Donning her mithral breastplate armor, leather corset, breeches, boots and belt, to Coran’s private regret… having thoroughly enjoyed the sight of her wonderful naked body, which she apparently had no qualms about displaying for all the world to see… and adore, she hefted a traveler’s pack and sheathed her bastard sword, which had magically shrunk to the size of a dagger when she took it up earlier, an ability he wished he had known about when he had lugged it through the forest with her unconscious body, standing ready to continue their journey. Although a few inches less than five feet, only a couple of inches taller than her sword when not shrunk, the aura of confidence and inner strength she exuded seemed to give her much greater stature. “Your fortunate all that was still here,” Coran observed as he appraised her attire with an admiring gaze, finding the aura of near palatable sensuality she exuded only slightly diminished. “That mitral breastplate alone would fetch a king’s ransom.” “It was a gift from the smith mistress of our temple,” she advised him, a wistful look washing over her lovely features as found memories ran through her mind and she idly stroked its smooth, hard surface. “She’s a dear friend, as well as a brilliant craftswoman.” He could easily guess that there was a good deal more than friendship between her and the smith, if she had given her such a wonderous gift, but, yielding to discretion, choice not to inquire further, instead he advised; “I’d suggest you cover it with your cloak or everyone we come across will be tempted to cut our throats to get their hands on it.”

Comments (23)

dogpinshadow

7:32AM | Tue, 17 July 2018

Just excellent!

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MM1-3C: What Now by zaqxsw

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