The following is a prologue to a story I have no intention of continuing past this point. It is ABSOLUTELY NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN AND PROBABLY NOT EVEN SAFE FOR WORK; I would certainly have questions for an employee I caught reading this. Comments and discussion welcomed. Moderators: I'll be glad to take the thread down if it is deemed inappropriate.
Ravish, the Woad
The ecstasy of the contest could not be contained so Ravish bared her teeth and roared. Her opponent took that moment to swing his cudgel at her head, thinking her to be distracted by her noise-making. She was not and ducked under the blow, ready to bring her dagger up into his ribs then spin around his side and behind him. The blow would rip open a deadly gash in his side and surely he would not have the strength to force himself upon her then. The club sizzled overhead but it had been a feint. Yes, the wooden weapon passed over her head but that's because he let go of it after she ducked. He let go of it because he knew she WOULD duck, just like he knew he exactly where the soft side of her head would be and that he couldn't get there with the end of his truncheon. However, he could with his fist so after he started the swing to get her to duck and lose sight of his arm he let go of the heavy stick and punched Ravish in the side of the head with a large portion of his strength, not wishing to seriously or permanently injure her. The rush of victory surged through him as he connected, knowing the contest would soon be over and he'd have the strongest woman in all the Tolchok tribes as his mate to birth his mighty children.
Thoughts of taking her body after beating her into submission as he had seen Horith the Foreigner do last spring festival almost stole his concentration, a lapse that could be deadly - as it eventually was for Horith. Sure, he had survived the repeated stabbings and had the strength left to pound her face into the mud and penetrate her then quickly finish but the wounds had festered and though he clung on, the large adventurer had succumbed during the winter. Meanwhile Ravish had nursed his ugly but large and strong-looking boy faithfully as the customs demanded. Now she was ready for breeding again and it was Attleled's turn. He'd won the wrestling match against two other clansmen to claim the right of contest against her and now victory was within his grasp. As she fell, rolled awkwardly, and staggered upright he watched for the dirty tricks all the best Tolchok women were known to employ.
Moving quickly behind her as she bent double to clear her head, Attleled raised his foot high in the air to bring it down in an axe-kick flat on her back. He hoped to flatten her to the ground then leap atop her, wrestle the dagger loose and have his way. As his foot came down she toppled to one side, feebly lashing out with her blade. It sliced the strong calf muscle deep, too deep to ever heal right, even if it remained uninfected. In that quick and accidental moment Ravish had robbed Attleled of his future as a warrior and probably his leg and therefore his life. Her eyes began to clear as he stared into them first with fury, then with desperation, the other men of the Tolchok tribes ready to step in to prevent him trying to avenge himself; strong women such as these were to be prized and protected from fury beyond the mating contest.
Ravish saw the defeat in his eyes and knew he would lunge at her. She would stab him and slash him in the gut, likely making taking her too painful to complete successfully. In that moment where she looked at him and he at her she knew what she would do to bolster her honor. She nodded ever-so-slightly to him and, relieved, he charged - into his own club that she now swung at his head. He stumbled but didn't fall and she brained him again. His torn leg gave out but he caught himself with one hand. She dropped the club and punched him full in the face, once, twice, three times but he flailed his free hand at her and came closer to catching her each time so she used the club again, then her foot to put him down on his back, beaten nearly senseless.
Attleled was finished, Ravish had won the match and likely killed her sixth suitor. But he had earned his prize in her mind and she would be proud to bring his strong child into the world, be it boy or girl so she pulled his hides and hesr aside and sat astride his lap. The tribesmen and women gasped in appreciation of her honor, that she would TAKE the seed he was too weak to plant himself. A man who would live through his injuries would be respected because of this gift but as it was assumed Attelled would not, the tribesfolk murmured and nodded to the tribute Ravish did him. As she moved he slipped into unconsciousness but his active participation was not needed, his body knew it's task and performed it fully, Ravish responding in kind. She breathed heavily, her concussion setting in as the gathered people hooted lowly in admiration and approval of the deed done.
But Ravish had one last gift for her second mate: She slapped his face repeatedly until he woke up, groggily looking for the source of the pain. Maintaining her position across his lap she leaned forward and told him to pay close attention to his manhood as she touched it with her knife. His eyes focused as quickly as he could make them at the thought of this horrible defilement she seemed to be planning. This was against the rules, the customs forbade such mutilation and yet all the watchers stood by smiling. Then she slowly stood without cutting him and he felt himself slide out of her. Realization of what she had done dawned slowly across Attleled's bloodied features and a smile spread there too. She smiled in return and tucked the smooth maternal hides up between her legs to make sure she kept all she had taken. As she made her way to the Grove of Women to undergo the rituals of fertility, those designed to make sure she made the best of the seed within her, Attleled was hoisted up by the men to have his wounds tended and his shoulder clapped countless times in congratulations of his victory, one so hard fought that - despite defeat - he won the respect of his adversary and thus was given his reward, a mighty accomplishment indeed.
Author's Notes:
After this we pick up Ravish's story after she has been driven from home by a host of enemies come looking for their lost Prince Horith, believed to be captured and held for ransom. The host was badly beaten but her tribe was scattered in the process, Attleled participating bravely but dying quickly. Ravish finds herself in the company of Nords and pretty frequently fighting for her life and to avoid their ill-mannered rape attempts that included none of the rules her tribe's mating contests contained. She fights on foot with minimal armor, a spear, and an axe. Later on she comes to find out that some certain person was responsible for telling the enemies that destroyed her tribe that they had kidnapped Horith and she goes on a quest to kill that person. The first time she is given the quest to kill a merchant some lord owes money to it turns out to be the guy she wants and she GRAPHICALLY tortures him to death in the street, a feat made possible by sufficient gagging. At some point she finds out that the people who attacked her tribe are some faction that piss me off, likely the Vaegirs. Ravish then goes on a horrific campaign of assassination and slaughter through their middling nobles, frequently using her nakedness as an enticement.
As for why I will not be continuing this story I only wrote it to prove a point. What that point is I feel would be a ****-move to name.
The picture was taken from an experimental character that failed to not get taken out all the time by arrows.
The ecstasy of the contest could not be contained so Ravish bared her teeth and roared. Her opponent took that moment to swing his cudgel at her head, thinking her to be distracted by her noise-making. She was not and ducked under the blow, ready to bring her dagger up into his ribs then spin around his side and behind him. The blow would rip open a deadly gash in his side and surely he would not have the strength to force himself upon her then. The club sizzled overhead but it had been a feint. Yes, the wooden weapon passed over her head but that's because he let go of it after she ducked. He let go of it because he knew she WOULD duck, just like he knew he exactly where the soft side of her head would be and that he couldn't get there with the end of his truncheon. However, he could with his fist so after he started the swing to get her to duck and lose sight of his arm he let go of the heavy stick and punched Ravish in the side of the head with a large portion of his strength, not wishing to seriously or permanently injure her. The rush of victory surged through him as he connected, knowing the contest would soon be over and he'd have the strongest woman in all the Tolchok tribes as his mate to birth his mighty children.
Thoughts of taking her body after beating her into submission as he had seen Horith the Foreigner do last spring festival almost stole his concentration, a lapse that could be deadly - as it eventually was for Horith. Sure, he had survived the repeated stabbings and had the strength left to pound her face into the mud and penetrate her then quickly finish but the wounds had festered and though he clung on, the large adventurer had succumbed during the winter. Meanwhile Ravish had nursed his ugly but large and strong-looking boy faithfully as the customs demanded. Now she was ready for breeding again and it was Attleled's turn. He'd won the wrestling match against two other clansmen to claim the right of contest against her and now victory was within his grasp. As she fell, rolled awkwardly, and staggered upright he watched for the dirty tricks all the best Tolchok women were known to employ.
Moving quickly behind her as she bent double to clear her head, Attleled raised his foot high in the air to bring it down in an axe-kick flat on her back. He hoped to flatten her to the ground then leap atop her, wrestle the dagger loose and have his way. As his foot came down she toppled to one side, feebly lashing out with her blade. It sliced the strong calf muscle deep, too deep to ever heal right, even if it remained uninfected. In that quick and accidental moment Ravish had robbed Attleled of his future as a warrior and probably his leg and therefore his life. Her eyes began to clear as he stared into them first with fury, then with desperation, the other men of the Tolchok tribes ready to step in to prevent him trying to avenge himself; strong women such as these were to be prized and protected from fury beyond the mating contest.
Ravish saw the defeat in his eyes and knew he would lunge at her. She would stab him and slash him in the gut, likely making taking her too painful to complete successfully. In that moment where she looked at him and he at her she knew what she would do to bolster her honor. She nodded ever-so-slightly to him and, relieved, he charged - into his own club that she now swung at his head. He stumbled but didn't fall and she brained him again. His torn leg gave out but he caught himself with one hand. She dropped the club and punched him full in the face, once, twice, three times but he flailed his free hand at her and came closer to catching her each time so she used the club again, then her foot to put him down on his back, beaten nearly senseless.
Attleled was finished, Ravish had won the match and likely killed her sixth suitor. But he had earned his prize in her mind and she would be proud to bring his strong child into the world, be it boy or girl so she pulled his hides and hesr aside and sat astride his lap. The tribesmen and women gasped in appreciation of her honor, that she would TAKE the seed he was too weak to plant himself. A man who would live through his injuries would be respected because of this gift but as it was assumed Attelled would not, the tribesfolk murmured and nodded to the tribute Ravish did him. As she moved he slipped into unconsciousness but his active participation was not needed, his body knew it's task and performed it fully, Ravish responding in kind. She breathed heavily, her concussion setting in as the gathered people hooted lowly in admiration and approval of the deed done.
But Ravish had one last gift for her second mate: She slapped his face repeatedly until he woke up, groggily looking for the source of the pain. Maintaining her position across his lap she leaned forward and told him to pay close attention to his manhood as she touched it with her knife. His eyes focused as quickly as he could make them at the thought of this horrible defilement she seemed to be planning. This was against the rules, the customs forbade such mutilation and yet all the watchers stood by smiling. Then she slowly stood without cutting him and he felt himself slide out of her. Realization of what she had done dawned slowly across Attleled's bloodied features and a smile spread there too. She smiled in return and tucked the smooth maternal hides up between her legs to make sure she kept all she had taken. As she made her way to the Grove of Women to undergo the rituals of fertility, those designed to make sure she made the best of the seed within her, Attleled was hoisted up by the men to have his wounds tended and his shoulder clapped countless times in congratulations of his victory, one so hard fought that - despite defeat - he won the respect of his adversary and thus was given his reward, a mighty accomplishment indeed.
Author's Notes:
After this we pick up Ravish's story after she has been driven from home by a host of enemies come looking for their lost Prince Horith, believed to be captured and held for ransom. The host was badly beaten but her tribe was scattered in the process, Attleled participating bravely but dying quickly. Ravish finds herself in the company of Nords and pretty frequently fighting for her life and to avoid their ill-mannered rape attempts that included none of the rules her tribe's mating contests contained. She fights on foot with minimal armor, a spear, and an axe. Later on she comes to find out that some certain person was responsible for telling the enemies that destroyed her tribe that they had kidnapped Horith and she goes on a quest to kill that person. The first time she is given the quest to kill a merchant some lord owes money to it turns out to be the guy she wants and she GRAPHICALLY tortures him to death in the street, a feat made possible by sufficient gagging. At some point she finds out that the people who attacked her tribe are some faction that piss me off, likely the Vaegirs. Ravish then goes on a horrific campaign of assassination and slaughter through their middling nobles, frequently using her nakedness as an enticement.
As for why I will not be continuing this story I only wrote it to prove a point. What that point is I feel would be a ****-move to name.
The picture was taken from an experimental character that failed to not get taken out all the time by arrows.
Pict Woad Nikkedness = win
