A Warm Night on the Cold Peak; Art by Twinkle-Sez (Patreon)

It’d been a long morning and I just wanted to relax in the only place in town that wouldn’t give me any grief. That’s why I was sitting alone, sipping a hot mug of Thrinacian Cream and staring out of a frosted window. I was just watching the kinlings as they passed by. All bundled up for what passes for winter up in the Dalish highlands. It wasn't too cold outside, but the tavern's owners weren't taking any chances. They'd had the inside of the place feeling like a warm summer day.

Around me the smell of cinnamon and burned stone permeated the air, wafting off the lightly glowing rune stones that served to illuminate the place and provide its heat. The uneducated called them 'smokeless coal'; but I know they’re just defective spell stones. Some artificer a long time ago had been bad at his job, but clever enough to see the value in his failures. He recorded his unique mistakes and managed to corner the market on his new ‘invention'. With the help of the Merchant's Guild his creation was marketed to high end establishments and even the nobles as a solution to both lighting and heat. Of course, the venture had been a success.

Now the sight of the defective stones lighting up an establishment was seen as a sign of it’s ‘class’. Only the fanciest of businesses could afford a steady supply of ‘smokeless coal’; and trust me, fancy the ‘Gilded Lily’ was indeed. It wasn't why I chose the place, but it certainly helped.

Most of the establishments in the ‘Golden Quarter’ were equally high end. After all, they were just a few blocks from Darkpaw Manor, where the Baroness of Calder’s Peak lays her head. With Aslan proper just a trip down the mountainside, the little baronage had adopted a lot more finery and ornament than was typical in the smaller Dalish communities. Of course that had a great deal to do with the Darkpaws themselves, who have been working to make the city, Calder's Town, the last best stop before entering Aslan proper.

To travelers heading east, it is the last bit of Dalish culture, with a heavy influence of the Stroudi settlers, as well as the lavish pomposity you will find in Aslan. For those travelling to Aslan via this route, it's a welcome introduction to the richer province. For Aslanians heading west, it's the last taste of home before having to come down to reality that not every province is as 'settled' as they're used to. Most cities in the Dales are beautiful, but utilitarian. Calder's Town is anything but, plus, being up on the mountain my ancestors needed something to help us draw visitors and trade. An endeavor my mother, the current Baroness, happens to take very seriously.

Oh, did I not mention that earlier? Yes, I am of the Darkpaw line. I'm the youngest child of my humble noble House. My name is Zane and despite rumors to the contrary, I am heir to the entire baronage.

That’s kind of the reason I was at the Gilded Lily that day. Though close to my House’s Keep, no one actually recognized me. In other places in Lioncourt tigers like me are rare. Hell, even up on Calder’s Peak we’re not too common; though we're common enough that no one gives me a second look. I could sit there in my little spot and brood all day. The only kinlings who would even hazard a glance my way were the sturdy Dalish warriors or half drunk travelers hoping I was some kind of joy boy. You’d think the son of their Baroness would be easily recognized, but you would be wrong. I'm not exactly the most well known of lordlings, even in my own hometown.

I didn't get the same attention from the people growing up as my more popular sister. She was the ideal tigress in form and stature. Everyone loved her. It never bothered me much back then. Hell, don't bother me too much now; just... after everything that’s happened I’d expect them to be a bit weary of us Darkpaws.

Well maybe not me or my parents, but my sister for sure. Given her crimes and the atrocities she's committed, you'd think our kinsmen would decry her as the villain she's become. Unfortunately for my family and name, that's not the case.

Everyone always adored her, myself included. She was the darling of the baronage; smart, beautiful, and destined for greatness. Despite my grand accomplishments I have always been overshadowed by Zhali. She’s always been the sun that outshined the stars. There was a time when that fact filled me with pride, now however, I only feel a sense of unending dread.

My parents found out pretty early that Zhali was an awoken, like my father and eventually myself; though she is considerably more powerful than either of us. My sister seemed destined to be a mighty mage. Everyone knew it. Her spiritwell was the deepest anyone had felt in a long time. Even the assessors from the Magus Librarium thought so. There was hope that her talents and accomplishments would bring great honor to our humble House. Maybe even the Higher Lords would take notice. There were dreams that she could be a major player in our liege lord's council in the future.

When Zhali went off to the Librarium Olcadan in Sypheel we were all so damn proud. I even wished that one day I could grow up and be half as talented as she was. She was my hero... I looked up to her.

While she wowed the world with her magic, I trained under my father. Sure, we were both awoken, but neither of us had enough ‘source retention’ to make it as full mages. Dad had been a Rune Knight in his wild youth, and his skills with the talismans known as ‘rune blades’ was impressive. He'd encouraged me to follow my own path, and that I could be as great as Zhali with hard work and training. After all, Lioncourt had been founded by kin of middling magical ability, standing tall against those far superior in aethereal might. Talismans and magical artifacts can help even the odds against the most powerful of arcane opponents. Our history has proven as much.

That history always gave me faith that with the right training and equipment, I could one day walk beside my sister as an equal. So I trained tirelessly every day.

Under my father’s tutelage I've become a talented swordsman in my own right; and I would not be bragging to admit my arcane talents are nothing to laugh at. Even at a young age I could focus my quintessence into weapons and armor, bolstering my abilities. Zhali had even taught me a few spells. Nothing like a proper mage, but I can muster a few evocation spells and even call upon a barrier or two.

I figured I could one day follow in my sister's footsteps; join the Librarium and bring honor to my family's name. Sure, I didn’t have the raw power or source retention of a mage; but I’ve always believed that I’d make a damn fine Rune Knight! Just like dad; and maybe one day I could work alongside Zhali. Watch her back. Be of some use to her.

They group them like that in the Librarium, you know. They call it a triad. A mage, a cleric and a rune knight. The perfect combination of talents to adventure on behalf of the Librarium. It was a goal I had. I wanted to be in a powerful triad with my sister. I dreamed one day we’d become legendary heroes; saving small towns, discovering lost artifacts, and making the world a better place. The peerage would praise our names and common kin would tell their children stories about our adventures. I hoped to inspire our family for generations. It was a little cubs dream, I know, but it was mine and I held on to it as long as I could. Unfortunately that wish was never going to come true. I may have had my dreams, but Zhali had dreams of her own; and they had nothing to do with being a 'hero'.

Zhali's rise within the Librarium was meteoric. You can’t imagine how proud we all were when she became a candidate for ‘First Enchantress’ of her Olcadan. She was so incredibly powerful and well liked, we just knew it wouldn't be long before she was chosen to lead an Olcadan of her own as a Prefect, despite her youth. She was a prodigy and everyone acknowledged her.

What we didn't know however, was Zhali had other plans for her future. She kept dark secrets and beliefs from everyone, even her family. Zhali always had her own ideas on the proper use of magic and the flow. Dangerous, radical ideas that she only shared with those she trusted. Ideas that worried me even as a young teen. While everyone else was shocked and taken aback by my sister's sudden expulsion from the Librarium, I wasn't surprised when 'repeated abuse of subversive magic' was cited as the reason. What did surprise me were the rumors and stories coming out of Sypheel after the fact.

Though the Librarium tried to cover up the most heinous of her deeds, probably for fear of drawing the attention of the Sacred Order of Raven Knights, many facts reached our ears about what my sister had gotten into.

Aside from her practice of the forbidden magics, she had apparently killed a Rune Knight and one of her former instructors! Both were highly talented specialists in their vocations. Skilled adepts who were simply trying to detain my sister's aggressions.

I don't know the full story, but there are several facts and rumors. We were initially told that Zhali did not take kindly to being passed over for First Enchantress. Throughout her time in Sypheel, my sister has had a rivalry with the school's darling, a lioness named Luna-Vega Mercurius. Even though they are of commoner blood, pride Mercurius has apparently always had a powerful affinity for the flow. Mage Luna's father and mother are High Wizard serving on the Circle of Twelve, and her grandmother, High Wizard Leiya Mercurius, the Prefect at the time, was an Archmage in all but title. Zhali believed the choice of the elder Mercurius sister over her for First Enchantress had little to do with their skill or power, and everything to do with nepotism. An easy story to sell given how many others were of the same mind; but I wasn’t convinced.

I know a thing or two about those rumors and they’re complete crap. In the times when we were still close, Zhali spoke of the rivalry often. It had always sounded like my sister respected Mage Luna, though she thought her a bit soft and naïve. I've met both Mercurius sisters; Luna and Lina, and they are both intelligent women, worthy of respect. So I've never believed that particular take on the situation. Despite everything else, I doubt my sister's motives would be so petty. I'm sure jealousy had very little do with anything.

Though she's never spoken of it since, I've done my own research into the event after joining the Sacred Order. The information they had pieced together painted a very different picture.

According to their spies, Zhali had been overjoyed with Mage Luna's promotion. The two were said to be friendly rivals and academic partners throughout the years. Their friendship took a deadly turn only after Zhali exposed herself as a follower of the Biencien philosophies. Unbeknownst to her colleagues, most of her students, and even family, Zhali had become a witch; embracing the dark side of magic. Some time after the announcement, Zhali had taken Luna-Vega aside, seeking to recruit the lioness to her coven.

She'd apparently been preying on her classmates like this for years. Turning some and taking advantage of others. Building a cadre loyal only to her. For what purpose, I have no idea.

No one thought anything of her decision to stay on with the Librarium after her graduation at sixteen for advanced arcane study. Talented as she was, it was a given. She'd earned the rank of Mage upon graduation, and the titles of specialist and Master were not too far behind. Zhali was recognized as a full Wizard by the time she was twenty and had been trusted to teach since she was eighteen. With the authority and trust to influence the minds of young novitiates to her way of thinking, Zhali had been corrupting others to her secret coven for years.

Of course Luna-Vega refused to join her. Even a glorified bumpkin like me knows that the Mercurius family has been stalwarts against the abuse of Mana for over a century. I imagine my sister didn't even blink after the rejection; she always acted decisively. Zhali was never shy about doing whatever she thought needed to be done to further her goals. Mage Luna could expose Zhali's evils to the Librarium and ruin whatever plans she'd been cooking up. The newly christened 'First Enchantress' would need to be 'dealt with'. I'm forced to wonder how many others my sister has dealt with in order to keep her secrets over the years.

She's been accused of everything from draining the quintessence of others to bolster her powers, basking in whatever knowledge that could be gleaned from their connection to the source, and tossing them aside, to collecting forbidden arcana. Artifacts, tomes, and talismans that even the most powerful of High Wizards fear to meddle with. Whatever her goals, I know for a fact her ambitions could be anything but ordinary. Murder is the very least of what she is capable of. I'm ashamed to say her violent response was predictable given the circumstances.

Surprisingly, my sister proved unable to overcome her rival. In a lengthy battle that shook the very foundation of Sypheel's Mage's Tower, Luna-Vega is reported to have bested Zhali, as well as a number of her followers. Shamefully, my sister refused to concede defeat and sacrificed several of her faithful to escape. I often wonder if it was in a fit of villainous laughter or with fiendish threats of revenge and retribution. The way she talks these days, I suspect it was. I’m not sure about that though. I've never built up enough courage to ask her about ‘the incident’. I could have earlier that day, but I was too emotional. Seeing her again after all this time was a shock. Especially seeing how much she'd changed. Though she looked the same, she was unrecognizable as the caring and loving sibling I'd admired all these years.

To my great astonishment, I learned that Zhali has been home quite a few times since being exposed. My father and mother always accept her. Not officially of course, Zhali’s a criminal, but they apparently act like nothing at all has changed when I'm not around. Despite her many assaults against other awoken and magic users, as well as her constant meddling with ancient and dangerous artifacts and talismans; they still treat her with great love and care. Zhali is supposed to be a high priority target. She’s the exact type of person the Holy Order of Raven Knight’s had been founded to stop. She preys on others and plays with powers beyond her understanding. People get hurt because of it! She’s almost as bad as some damn lilin or demon, but my parents still treat her like the golden child. Here in Calder’s Peak the tigers treat her like some damn folk hero.

She’s got the tigerkin believing that if our ancestors had only bucked the fearful edicts of the Librarium and embraced the ‘dark arts’, perhaps our ancient Home of Stroud would have survived the Baptism of Fire, as Lioncourt had. The Stroudi had mostly shunned traditional magic and relied on their physical strength, tactics, natural cunning, and direct mana manipulations to aid their martial prowess. The legends say our people had never before been defeated and the Kingdoms quintist were the best in all of Theria. Shallow praise now that they're all dead.

Zhali decries our forbearers as small-minded brutes. She preaches the age old adage of the 'Tyrant', that ‘might makes right’. To my great shame the younger tigerkin, especially the tigresses, have been buying into her bullshit wholesale. Quite a few who are born awoken have sought her out instead of joining the Librarium for proper study. A sad trend that has brought scrutiny and mistrust to my House and our baronage. You'd think my parents would care, but they're just happy to see their daughter.

I've heard her nonsense and listened to the fools who parrot her 'wisdom'. It's all rubbish! Despite all her noble philosophies and carefully thought out arguments, she’s no more than a power-hungry sociopath. She's got a taste of the eldritch power and it's warped her mind. She'd even tried to recruit me before she went to ground. I was disgusted at how easily she tried to use our familial connection and my dreams of our future to manipulate me to her dark ambition. I know better than anyone how little she cares about those unwilling to bend to her will.

She needs to be stopped! She is a dangerous maleficar who spreads her poisonous ideas wherever she goes. Zhali takes no responsibility for the pain she causes or the actions of those who have followed in her footsteps; no matter how heinous their crimes.

Young witches do vile things to gain her favor and attention. Whole covens have risen and fallen under her name and influence, but Zhali cares little about them if they are not powerful enough to further her ambitions. No matter the atrocities committed, she's unconcerned with how her selfish desires affect the family.

I know what you're thinking. No. No, I do not hate my sister. I still love her very deeply, but I know what she is. Zhali is a demon in the making. She may not yet be subverted, but she’s a danger to every living being she comes across. She no longer sees them as people, but as tools to be used. Empathy, compassion, these things are now 'beneath her concerns'. Only the 'goal' matters to her.

That is why I joined the knighthood and worked so hard to become a Raven of the Order. Not only to show the kingdom and everyone else that House Darkpaw does not support my sister’s mad quest for power; but to prove that at least one of us knows right from wrong. That my family will stand against the darkness, no matter where it comes from.

It’s my goal to one day save my sister from her evil path... that day I told her so.

Far from taking my sincerity seriously, the mad Witch just laughed in my face. Dismissively telling me how 'cutely naïve' I was.

"Honor, loyalty, justice... Those are words created by weak kinling to disguise their own shortcomings. These things are for those without a purpose. To keep this stagnant society from ripping itself apart. If we want to grow, transcend as a people, it must be done with every measure available. Such outdated ideals will only serve to hold us back!" she preached.

"We should be as living gods, as the Eternians once were. They were once mortal kin like you or I, and their divinity was given to them. Chosen by fickle overseers who think they know what's best for the world!" she said of the Druids. It was her ambition to usurp their strength and take the power of ascension for herself.

She boasted that her magical prowess gave her the right to take what she wanted and she did not feel sorry about it. The power of magic was all things to her and she very clearly was intoxicated by her own strength.

I demanded to know what she thought of the people she hurt. The stigma she would bring down upon our House and home. What about me? Did she even care how her actions have affected our people? Apparently not. In a fit of laughter she looked me dead in my eyes and cruelly responded;

"If you can be laid low by the simple opinions of others, then you're far too weak to be of use to anyone!"

I was incensed.

We argued for an hour before she eventually decided to prove her point by turning her might upon me. She cackled as she showed me how inadequate I really was.

"Is this it?" she chided.

"Is this all the power you have to save me from my dark path, little brother?"

Zhali's tone was callous and mocking. She derided my chosen mission and the Order itself, calling us a den of fools. She scorned the Order for their own beliefs in 'hiding from the power of our ancestors', and promised they too would feel her wrath should they get in her way. Suffocating as I was under the pressure of some kind of wind spell, I wasn't able to offer a proper retort. Rather, I just scowled as my world turned black.

I awoke later to find my parents acting all too casual about her use of violence against me. They even admonished me for antagonizing her! I am distressed to find that they too have bought into her crap and told me that I didn't know what was important.

"Zhali is your sister! You need to learn that nothing should come before family! It's all we tigers still have." reprimanded my mother.

I couldn't believe it. Even my father was defending her, claiming that though her methods were misguided, she wished to make our kin great again. I didn't know what hurt worse, to choke on her damn spell or the indignity of it all. It took everything I had not to scream!

I've always put my damn family first! My mother, my father, our family ideals! I've always strived to improve our station and represent my House with honor! But that didn't matter, not to them! They’d bought into her bullshit and swore up and down that 'I' had lost sight of our family's values. They claimed I was simply jealous and could not see the glorious purpose my sister had been born to fulfill. It was like they'd been enchanted. Nothing I said, nothing she's done could dissuade them from their beliefs.

All the while Zhali smiled and looked at me with mocking eyes. In them I could see the truth; a truth that no one else in this damn family is willing to admit. Zhali doesn't care about anyone but herself and her selfish ambitions will eventually lead this family to ruin... I just can't let that happen.

They may pretend to have forgotten, but I know our family's history as well as any. Our Liege Lords, the great House Valenrow, granted Clan Darkpaw this small baronage for our family's valor and commitment to the 'Code of Iron' during the Baptism of Fire. We were refugees to this land. A desperate and broken people. It was our dedication to the honor and pride of our ancestors, and willingness to fight for those high ideals, that earned us our place in Evandale. Zhali would wipe generations of good will away in an instant, and my parents couldn’t care less.

I drank my mug of cream clean before ordering another. Despite the quality of the beverage, my mood would not improve. I could not dispel the memories of the previous week. The painful awkwardness I felt being around her in our family home. My dreams were filled with haunts and nightmares. A black shadow with my sister's smile looming over me like a wraith. It’s not what I would have called a good vacation.

It wasn’t easy for me to sit at the table and eat dinner across from the tigress who'd choked me out with her magic. With my family treating 'me' like a pariah, and Zhali acting as if nothing at all happened, my mind was a swirl with feelings of rage and inadequacy. Looking up at her, I wondered how she could be so casual after all she'd done. Did any of it bother her at all?

I wanted to know what she was up to. What lines she’d already crossed? There were other, conflicting thoughts as well. Thoughts I'm ashamed to say I couldn't put out of my mind. Was she truly well? How was her life out there living on the run? How could she possibly feel knowing that she was always being tracked by the Witch Hunters from the Librarium. That one mistake and the Order would rain down on her unmasked. I, a lowly third class Raven was no match for her, but there would be others.

Sadly, I lacked the courage to ask even one of my questions. Instead, I looked to my mother and father, bowing respectfully, and excused myself from the table. No one noticed that I'd packed my bags and prepared to leave. No one bothered to see me off. I've been hiding out at the ‘Lily’ ever since, trying to figure out whether I should just return west to Bast or try to do something about Zhali.

Unfortunately no matter how many mugs of cream I made it to the bottom of, there was never an answer down there. So I just sat there waiting for 'something' to happen; when it did, I almost spit out my drink.

He walked into the Tavern without entourage or fanfare. Something typical of most Dalish lords, but not something I'd ever seen for myself. Shaking the light snow off of his cloak, the noble stepped forward and greeted the room with a smile. My eyes grew wide when I saw him; Adolyn fucking Valenrow, Count of Vonleah and heir to all of Evandale. The man was not only the eldest son of Duke Palence Valenrow, my liege lord, but also Primus Corvinus of the Sacred Order. Only the goddess in the beyond has more authority over me. I owe the caracal my fealty twice over, with oaths sworn by blood and magic. His presence was a shock that sent my heart racing. I could do nothing but panic and try to hide my head behind my mug, hoping not to be noticed.

The man then announced himself, respectfully, as is the custom of most of the Dales. It wasn't something we'd adopted up on the Peak. He didn’t make a scene as other nobles are known to do. He was acknowledged with due respect and then turned to gesture to a young woman standing at the door. I didn’t get a good look at her, she was wearing a hood, but she wore the Raven’s sigil, so I assumed she was his adjutant, Sarissa. She left and went about the business of dispersing the small crowd outside. Mostly foreigners who had come to get a glimpse of the famous 'Champion'. You could hear the sighs and moans of disappointed maidens as they were shooed off the street.

Unlike myself earlier, everyone in the bar instantly recognized the 'Crimson Raven'. He was a goddamn hero after all. The former commander of the Border Legion's famed 15th Company at the age of eighteen, he'd certainly earned his status as a local legend. I was sure at least some of the patrons had served beside the man in one engagement or another. Cries of 'For the Dales!', and other Legionnaire greetings were uttered in respectful tones.

If we're being honest, it's not really that surprising. All Dalish, including myself, are required to serve at least four years in the Legion. The whole role of Evandale is to keep the borderlands secure. But the Dalish kin aren't the kind of folks that swoon over anyone, not even one of their heroes. Besides a few barmaids who had stopped paying attention to anything else, most of the room simply politely acknowledged the young lord.

As barmaids stared and brawny warriors respectfully thrusted fists in honored salute, I sat back and kept my composure. I didn't want to call attention to myself; sure that he'd be able to tell how flustered I was. Given the current resident of my family's manor, I also didn't want to make life more complicated for anyone. My oaths would not allow me to lie to the Primus about such a serious situation; and Zhali's presence was as serious a situation as they come. If I wanted to avoid conflict I would need to sneak out before being noticed. Fortunately, that is not what would end up happening.

It didn't take long for his eyes to peer around the room. Assessing everything in sight. It's one of the first things we're taught to do as young warriors. Despite my 'excellent' job of hiding in plain sight, the Primus' eyes quickly fell upon me. He looked genuinely surprised and delighted to see me. Though I wasn't sure why.  He gave me a little wave and gestured to the seat across from me. Since my attempts to turn invisible or melt into the wall seemed to be unsuccessful, I reluctantly nodded in return.

For a man of his status, his manner and presence was quite subdued. This despite the fact that he made no attempt to conceal the Raven’s crest on his armor or his family’s sigil. I'm always amazed at how different Dalish nobility act with the commonkin as opposed to the Aslanians, which my family have mostly modeled themselves after.

He greeted those who wished to greet him warmly. He was like an old friend, rather than their lord. No one bowed and he didn't expect them to. Every kin looked him in the eye and shook his hand respectfully. There was no groveling or kowing... it was as if everyone was equal.

Adolyn was magnetic. Everyone respected the Count and he in turn showed them respect. No one lingered, no one fawned. They just showed him his due and let him go about his business. Unlike other nobles I've known, he did not seem to want any additional attention either. He was the very model of a Dalish noble. I was almost jealous.

Smiling mirthfully, the Primus greeted me with a wave. Walking briskly he made his way to my table. Without pretense or pretension he pardoned himself as he passed people, smiling, and shaking hands with those who wished it. When he reached me he asked politely if he could ‘share my table’. Like a child I fumbled with my response.

“Y... Yes, sir!” I blurted out, surprised. He thanked me and did me the service of not laughing at my embarrassing reply before sitting down.

Now don’t judge me here. I’m not one of those country bumpkins who hasn’t ever met a highborn noble before. Hell, I serve with more than a few, Adolyn included; but I’d never been alone with the guy in a social setting. He must have asked me what I was drinking about three times before I realized he was talking to me.

“The Thrinacian Cream, sir. It’s... nonalcoholic.” I answered lowering my ears. I felt a bit self-conscious about that. I get a lot of flak for my effeminate look and build from the other tigers. My kin tend to be a surly breed. Me, not so much. I’d been teased and bullied about it. Some of the other lordlings liked calling me my ‘daddy’s other daughter’ quite a lot in my youth. Drinking a decidedly ‘unmanly’ drink in the presence of the ‘Crimson Raven’, made me feel a bit soft. I don’t mind seeming feminine, but I didn’t like the assumption that it made me weak.

To my surprise, he decided he’d order one as well. I think I nearly fell over in my chair when he announced it to the barmaid. She didn’t seem to mind either. She just grinned and flushed behind her trey and promised to make him an extra special cup.

She was a pretty, young thing. A meerkat, which was rare for the peak. She had curly brown hair and wide brown eyes. She was the kind of girl you expected to work at a place like the Lily. She was cute, but not too cute. Well built, but not well toned. Definitely an air of peasantry about her, but her smile was genuine and her manners were impeccable. I took her for a well paid barmaid, not some uncouth tavern wench.

Adolyn flipped her a single coin. A gold kelling. That much could buy everyone in the establishment a mug, and then some. The drink only cost a few coopers.

As she looked wide eyed at the mintage, Adolyn nonchalantly told her that she could keep the difference.

“A smile like that is worth the price of admission,” he shrugged.

The meerkat grew giddy with appreciation. It was probably more money than she had ever had in her possession at one time. As the barmaid skipped away, Adolyn didn’t bother to explain his generosity, alternatively focusing on the drinks.

He explained that he didn’t often drink liquor himself, and Thrinacian Cream was one of his favorites.

“A nice hot drink on a cold autumn day.” was how he described it. He of course then claimed that the cream in the Dales was the best in all of Lioncourt, on account of the Heliosian Bovines who settled in the lowlands after the Baptism. I’m sure many would argue the point, especially the Bovidae of Kujata; but I would not begrudge him his boast. Dalish Thirnician Cream is quite good, as the cattlekin of Helios did originate from Kujata.

“It is very good, m’lord.” I managed to get out while taking a sip.

It was all I could do to hide the smile drawing itself upon my face. Sipping became hard as the thought of the ‘Legendary Crimson Raven’ sipping sweetened cream gave me a small case of the giggles.

Adolyn gave me a curious look then. Not quite agitation, but something close to exhaustion. I wasn’t sure if he was on to me or not, but it passed quickly as the young meerkat approached.

When the bardmaid returned with his drink, she wasn’t shy about flirting with him. She leaned over his shoulder placing her modest breasts upon him and I could see that she'd loosened her top a bit to increase what could be seen of her bust.

A shameless ploy, but one I’ve seen to be quite effective in the past. Barmaids aren’t prostitutes, but they certainly know how to take care of favored customers. I imagine those customers in turn take care of them. It’s not uncommon for men of moderate means to find their wives among this lot. Something about a beautiful woman used to ‘serving’ has a certain appeal.

I’m not sure how used to serving this one was. She was awfully young and her boldness did little to hide her inexperience and uncertainty.

The meerkat stood away, biting her lip as she waited for Adolyn to try the cream, which he did with a nod. If she was worried about whether or not he’d like it, I think her fears were unfounded. Even I could see the care put into crafting his beverage.

She had indeed been true to her word, ‘making it special’. My mug of cream didn’t quite have so much shaved chocolate and nutmeg on the froffy top. And I could smell the vanilla and cinnamon from where I sat. The aroma was enchanting! I almost asked for another cup; but I was certain mine wouldn’t be half as good as his.

Part of me, the side raised in the peerage, thought the girl shameless and presumptive. A commoner throwing herself at a highlord like him in public? It was unseemly. He wasn’t some travelling merchant or sell sword to be won over. Still, I couldn’t fault her for trying. The man is an absolute unit. Sure, he’s not the most handsome fella I’ve ever met, not even amongst our brothers in the order; but he’s definitely up there. And there’s a certain charm to his mix of courtly grace and indifferent Dalish manner. Had I less self control perhaps I’d be doing the same.

The Primus has friendly, blue-grey eyes, fiery, red hair, and the smile of a storybook adventurer. He’s tall for a caracal. A little over six feet, and is as fit as anyone I’ve seen. It’s not hard to see why he’s so well liked by the ladykin. A quick glance around revealed that the men too seemed to enjoy his boyish good looks and modest, athletic frame.

I’ve been the object of desire in the eyes of many men in my life. I know what that looks like. Unfortunately for them, I don’t think the Primus is all that into male callers, at least, not in the way they’d want him.

If we're being honest, and I promise you I am, I was wondering about that a little myself. It’s pretty hard not to. As distractions go to take my mind off of madness back at the manor, you could do worse than a handsome noble kin, with a hundred kelling smile. I hadn’t heard a lot about his preferences, but rumor had it that he did enjoy the company of men of my particular aesthetic.

As I said before, I am not typical of my breed. Tigers and Lions tend to be tall, strong, and hardy. Most are at the very least six feet, and that’s still a little on the short side. My father is nearly six-six, and my mother is just an inch shorter. Zhali too is an absolute monster of a Caenisian daughter. Taller than even my father, they all tower above me.

I can be charitably described as slender. I’m not much taller than five-seven, and I’ve got little bulk on me to speak of; despite working hard all my life to build such muscle. I’m fit, athletic, and strong for my size. I’ve surprised quite a few people that have mistaken me for a little ladykin, but I’ll never be accused of being ‘manly’.

Don’t get me wrong. I like the way I look. I’m very pretty and my lovers both male and female, are all reasonably dazzled by my effeminate good looks, emerald eyes, and shapely figure. I keep my hair fashionable in the Hinari way;  silky and styled one side. A mess of beautiful raven locks, and a shaved ‘undercut’ on the other. With full lashes and a perfectly petite muzzle, I get more than my fair share of looks too.

Just not that day it seems. That day I was superfluous wherever I went. Nothing too special in my hometown I guess.

“But maybe not for long...” I thought to myself.

It sounds silly, but I was thinking maybe I could salvage my trip home. So far it'd been an awful experience that I’d pay good kellings to forget. But maybe, just maybe, I could cap it off with something special.

My eyes fixed on the handsome lord across from me, wondering if it were at all possible. Would he? Could he? There weren’t many rules about fraternization among the Ravens. I’ve had a fling or two with superiors before, but the Primus... now that would be a feather in my cap.

I smiled then at the beautiful contradiction of a noble kin sitting across from me. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Would he be offended by my interest? No, I thought not. As he politely sent our barmaid scurrying off, swooning, and blushing through her fur, I was sure Count Adolyn was used to such ‘attention’.

First however, I needed to know why he was there. It was hard to believe he just so happened to be passing through here at the same time Zhali had shown up. Was he checking in on me? Did he know? Had I already lost the trust of my fellow Ravens? I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but the questions just propagated in my mind. If he was here to check up on me, I was certain romance would be the furthest from his mind.

That’s when he caught me staring. I hadn’t realized I was doing it until he said something.

He’d first told the barmaid he’d get another mug before long, having sipped the first and found it to be ‘exceptional’. He then turned his eyes to me and asked;

“Something on my face?” with a bit of a wink.

I quickly took a sip of my own cream and looked away; hoping to high heaven my fur wasn’t bristling or my tail wasn’t dancing. I’m not normally the type to get flustered over a handsome kin, but these were mitigating circumstances. There was something appealing about the danger of it all. The man was my lord and my leader, and possibly the kin that would dismiss me from the Order for hiding a dangerous fugitive from them. Something about the way it all made my heart pound was both worrying and exciting.

I’m not ashamed to admit the thought of seducing my way out of trouble appealed to my more delinquent side. Though despite what you’ve heard, that often doesn’t work. Still, I had my little fantasies. I was so wrapped up in them that I hadn’t noticed more time go by.

Mercifully, Adolyn ended the awkward silence a few moments later by asking me how I was enjoying my ‘furlough’. After a short pause out of sheer surprise, I answered that everything was fine and said I was having a bit of cream before heading back west.

He again gave me that curious look and then questioned;

“I thought you were approved for several more days? Even if you travelled by caravan alone you’d still get back to Bast with plenty of time left on your leave. Any reason to cut your time off short?”

He looked concerned, but I was suspicious. I’d put in a request for time away to visit my family at the behest of my mother. I didn’t know then that I’d arrive home to find my sister lurking about the manor. What I did know is such requests and paperwork were beneath the notice of the Primus. It isn’t exactly a secret that the man prefers to leave such logistics in the capable hands of other officers. Why did he know the specifics of my request?

Something didn’t add up and a sense of unease was rising from the pit of my stomach. I’m barely six months removed from being a mere fledgling Raven, having only received my pendant of rank a month ago. His interest was unnerving and immediately made me suspect the worst.

“Can you be honest with me?” I started, deciding it's best to be direct with a Dalish lord. He answered;

“Of course!”, with a friendly nod. It took me a moment, but eventually I found my words.

“Is the Order uncomfortable with my... familial ties?” I asked cautiously. I’ll admit I was ready to get all bent out of shape about it. Some righteous indignation was building up within me. I had my arguments and protests all in line, but the look of pure confusion on Adolyn’s face brought me up short.

“You’re referring to your sister, Zhali?” he replied, taking another sip.

“Despite the growing concerns over Biencien sympathies taking root in some of the darker corners of the Peak, the Baroness has done little to earn the ire of the nobility or the Order. So I suspect your concern is about the ‘Black Sheep’ in the family.” he said using the familiar epitaph. I would have pointed out that many of the caprinae found the nomenclature offensive, but thought better of it. Instead, I sat silently, trying not to look as unsurprised as I felt.

“So this is about Zhali...” I sighed. I guess it was too much to hope that he’d be there just by happenstance, but the caracal shook his head in the negative. Taking another sip of his cream, he leaned back, yawning unconcernedly.

“Let me guess...” he began with a grin.

“Your sister’s status as a Biencien Witch has you worried about your place in the world. I’d heard you joined the Order specifically because of that, but I had no idea it weighed so heavily upon you.”

After taking another big swig of his cream and casually licking his chops, he looked away, catching the barmaids' eager attention.

“I believe your feelings of mistrust and scrutiny are unfounded, kid. No one thinks any less of you.” he insisted.

I had a hard time buying that. He was ‘there’ afterall. What else is up on the Peak that he could possibly want? If Adolyn Valenrow wanted to travel to Aslan, he’d take the King’s road right up through Eldeen, where the seat of House Valenrow sits in Castle Valestin. There weren't too many good reasons to come round this way for a highborn like himself.

Steeling myself, I assured him that I was ‘not’ like my sisters. Letting him know that I took my vows seriously and believed that despite the black mark on my family, that I could be an exceptional knight if given the chance.

The laugh he let out in response was enough to crush my ego into a million pieces. It wasn’t as cruel or mocking as my sisters, but it was equally as dismissive. It was instantly obvious that he’d never once given the idea to the contrary a second thought. Though he tried to be gracious about it, I could hear the ‘eye roll’ in his tone.

“Well I’m glad for that, Zane. It’s always good to see that kind of conviction in a warrior. Way to ‘Live the Code’,” he teased.

“But I’m not sure what your sister’s status has to do with your place in the Order.” he continued with a shit eating grin.

He waved nonchalantly at me as he took his next drink, which was equally well made as the last, and accepted a small peck on the cheek from the barmaid; who walked back toward her compatriots smiling from ear to ear. They all looked incredibly jealous.

“You know, the whole ritual and magical ceremony involved in taking our vows isn’t for show. That’s powerful arcana at work.” he informed, taking another sip. He stopped to compliment the drink again, loud enough for the barmaid to hearm earning her a small cheer from a few of the men in the crowd. As she blushed and gave a little courtesy, he turned his attention back to me.

“You couldn’t break your vows even if you wanted to. It’s kind of how ‘Vows in Magic’ work. So no ones concerned that you don’t fully intend to live up to your word.” he shrugged.

His tone suggested that the mere thought of the contrary was almost too ridiculous to entertain. Like it was as simple as one plus one equalling two.

You can’t imagine my embarrassment as he continued to go about enjoying his drink like nothing, while I was wearing my worries on my sleeve.

“Idiot...” I berated myself. I knew that. We all knew it. They weren’t concerned with me betraying them, because I can’t, but I couldn’t shake my own discontent. If not for Zhali or me, then why was he there? Why did the Primus concern himself with the furlough of a lowly 3rd Class Raven? Was there anything near Calder’s Peak that could draw a man such as him, and if so, how likely was it that his business would find him here at the same moment I and Zhali were here?

Swallowing deeply of my trepeditons, I decided to nut up and just ask the question. Part of me was afraid he’d lie. Another part of me was afraid of the truth. It ate at me for a few awkward moments, but after I finally managed to form the inquiry, the answer was so simple and mundane I wanted to slam my head into the table.

‘Kaari Jerky,’ he replied.

‘Kaari Jerky?’ I repeated, confused.

‘Kaari Jerky!’ he affirmed, reaching down and procuring a large satchel I hadn’t noticed before. Placing it on the table, the contents spilled over. Tens of dozens of the little slivers of meat were there, wrapped in banda leaves, and tied in twine. There was easily a whole gold kellings worth that I could see.

Adolyn smiled proudly as he pointed to the little emblem burned into each leaf from the fishery’s branding Iron. It was The letters C and R, making up a circling fish, entwined in a net. The sigil of the Carmine River Fishery down the mountains west side. I put my head in my hands and laughed.

“You came all this way for catfish?” I asked, almost disbelieving. I say almost, because Kaari or catfish as it’s widely known, is a favorite food of Dalishkin. The rivers and lakes of the dales are filled with them, but none are so desired or famous as the ones that are fished in the Carmine River.

I’d say most of the kin of the Dales have a mad love affair with the fish. It's a big part of the local diet. Quite a few of the Lily’s current patrons were having the fish served in a myriad of different ways.

Kaari jerky is the preferred snack of most Dalishkin, as they are incredibly flavorful and last a long time. I’d grown fond of the stuff myself during my time with the Legion. I guess Adolyn had too. You can’t find catfish outside of the Dales in Lioncourt, so jerky is about the only way other than magic that you're going to get the delicious treat all the way back west.

“You came all the way here for Kaari jerky?” I asked, still trying to stifle my laugh.

It sounded just like a dalishkin. I’d say we’re a direct people, but I often feel like we tigers aren’t exactly as Dalish as the rest of the ‘valley cats’. Despite having been around for nearly two hundred years at that point.

To the west, just down the mountain is where the Carmine River feeds into Cinnabar Lake. All named for the curious color of the rocks and sediment at the bottom of the bodies of water. The village of Landry isn’t very big, or especially noteworthy, other than that the community of bobcats living there are excellent fishers. And if you ask anyone with half a tastebud in their mouth, they’ll tell you the Kaari farmed down there is the best in all of Evandale.

“‘May I?” I sighed, as I took one in hand. Adolyn eagerly obliged, telling me that these were spiced with peppers and onions, with a little hint of mulberry powder. It was quite good.

After another sip he peered at me with an expression that was a bit sympathetic. I knew he wanted to talk about my fear of my relationship with Zhali. That particular cat was obviously out of the bag, and I’m sure he felt it necessary to address it as my lord and commander.

“You’ve taken your sister's actions and reputation personally, haven’t you?” he asked evenly. I nodded. It was obvious, so no need to deny it.

‘How could I not?’ I asked back. Feeling a bit self-conscious. He reached out and took my hand in his and gave me a disarming expression.

“Life’s too short to carry guilt for someone else, don’t you think?” He coaxed, trying to get me to smile. I blushed under my fur and looked away.

“Well yeah, but...” I replied a bit sheepishly.

“You’ve come far and accomplished much. It takes great skill and conviction to make it into the Order. We are all very proud of what you have achieved so far and no one doubts you or your commitment.” he began.

“You are your own man Zane Darkpaw, beholden only to your own actions and mistakes. Neither you, nor your family shall answer for the misdeeds of your sister. She is an adult acting of her own accord, and not in service of your House. It is not the Dalish way to hold others accountable for actions they themselves did not commit. We are all of us, responsible for ourselves.” He assured me.

I wanted to argue. I wanted to point out that maybe in this dukedom that was the way of things, but not everyone followed the ‘Code of Iron’. The aristocracy surely didn’t, and though my family was directly beholden to his, I couldn’t imagine that House Valenrow would not be under extreme pressure and maybe even held to account for the actions of their bannerwoman.

I barely got half of that sorted in my head before Adolyn surprised me again by letting me know that he was aware that Zhali was in town.

I was stunned for a moment. So stunned that I stopped speaking abruptly and just stared at him blinking slowly. He’d said it so matter of factly, it almost went unnoticed.

How did he know? Did I give something away? Surely everything he said before couldn’t have been a lie, but if he did not come for her or me, how did he know she was here? Opting to keep my trap shut and listen for a change. I chose discretion as the better part of valor and waited to hear what the Primus had to say. He did not disappoint.

“Between the Order and the Legion, there are eyes everywhere in Evandale. Legion Outriders clocked your sister the moment she stepped foot in the dales, and a ranger unit has been on her since she hit the valley.” he informed me.

“It’s been a hassle to keep Lady from going up to the manor and saying, ‘Hello’.” He sighed.

Slowly, I blinked, remembering the cloaked rabbit at the door. I’d thought it was Lady Sarissa, but I wasn't sure. I must have looked suddenly ill because he waved his hands dismissively and asked me not to worry.

If it was Courtian Rangers, it’d be a unit of four or five. Though skilled, I worried about their ability to bring down Zhali. If they were Knight Rangers from the Order, they’d have a considerably better chance. Having ‘The Lady’ as we called her involved, however, made me fear for my sister’s safety. The adorable grey and white bunny was far more dangerous than most realized.

“You think she can take her on her own?” I inquired, more than a little curious as to his answer. He shrugged, taking another sip.

“Without a doubt. I’ve had my own run-ins with Zhali, kid, she’s certainly a phenomenal mage. A High Wizard for sure, but I’ve gotten the better of her on numerous occasions. I’m reasonably confident that if ‘The Lady’ wished it so, she could drag Zhali out of that manor by her tail.” he stated matter of factly.

“Zhali’s far more powerful than even you know, but then again, so is the Mother of Rangers.”

He sounded confident, but I noticed he intentionally made no mention of his own abilities.The disbelief must have shown on my face, because he had a good snicker at my expense.

“She’s not invincible, kid. She’s also not technically ‘wanted’ either.” he shrugged.

“Despite what most people think, being a Biencien Witch isn’t a crime in itself. She has to actually do something for us to take action against her. So for now, we’re just observing.... And she knows it.”

I don’t know what made me angrier, his flippant dismissal of the threat she posed or how nonchalant he was that a Biencien Witch was roaming free.

“But sir!” I growled, my voice rising a bit as I struggled to contain my emotions.

“She assaulted several mages and rune blades when she fled her Olcadan. She drained and possibly murdered several more during her time with Librarium. She practices subversive magic and preys on other awoken to make herself stronger. I know for a fact that she is actively hunting for forbidden arcana and talismans in order to increase that power to dangerous ends! If that is not ‘something’, I don’t know what is!” I protested.

“Is that not the exact thing we are sworn to guard against!?”

Still smiling, Adolyn calmly finished his drink and placed his hands together on the table. For a long pause he looked to be trying to find the best way to respond to my outburst. I hadn’t failed to notice his slight nod to the left, at the other patrons; a sign that I was garnering attention.

I hadn’t even noticed that I had stood up, or that my claws were now digging into the wood of the table.

I felt the flesh under my fur burn and through the soft hairs of my ears, I was sure you could see me blushing. Bowing my head in shame, I quietly sat back down. It was the second time in as many minutes that I'd made a fool of myself before the man. I hoped it would not become a recurring issue. Luckily, Adolyn is an understanding and patient leader, ignoring my transgression and staying on topic.

“Yes, I’m sure all you say is true and more, however our hands are tied.” he sympathized.

“The politics here are difficult to say the least. The Librarium did not report the incident or file an official complaint. Those affected by your sister's actions will not speak to us or corroborate what we know. Given that Olcadan’s are considered the sovereign land of the Magus Librarium, we just don’t have jurisdiction without an invite, or a reasonable amount of proof of what happened. Proof that was quietly destroyed before we even heard about the situation.” he grumbled.

He then informed me that without an official request for aid, the matter was considered ‘LIbrarium Business’, and there was nothing they could do about it unless it affected civilians.

Adolyn assured me he agreed that my sister needed to be stopped, and he was pretty sure she was preying on others and acquiring forbidden arcana. It was what witches did after all, but without ‘actionable intel’, they couldn’t move on her. She had to be witnessed hurting others or abusing arcana, or reported as using said arcana before they could act.

“Until then, we just keep an eye on her when we can,” he lamented.

They hoped to be able to keep her treachery to a minimum. It wasn’t like she was unaware that she was being monitored, she treated it all like a game. A game she was certain she would win.

“We’ve got only a few rangers talented enough to keep track of her once she’s out in the wilds. Her talent in deceptive magic is no little thing.” he admitted. He also admitted that she possessed something that kept those with access to her quintessence from scrying her.

“And what about her disciples? The lackeys and sycophants who act on her behalf?” I queried. Another shrug.

“We deal with them whenever and wherever they show themselves. We’ve had to purge at least two covens growing here in Evandale connected to her little ‘manifesto’.” he sighed.

He was of course referring to my sister's open letter admonishing the nobility, the Librarium, the Raven Knights, and the Stroudi of old for their cowardice and unwillingness to forge a bright new future.

Like all magical despots she borrowed heavily from the Mad King Leandre’s diatribes against those who stifle Lioncourt’s growth by denying the might of magic.

Personally speaking, I don’t think quoting a man responsible for trying enact genocide on several allied kin is a good way to dispel the notion that your mad with power.

Groaning in frustration, I finally huffed;

“So she’s free to spread her nonsense, until she actually does something we can prove?”

Adolyn shook his head and gestured around. His eyes glowing with arcane light as he activated his ‘kirlian eye’. Quietly he asked me to use the sight and tell me what I saw. So I did.

“There are at least four awoken in this very room aside from us. Two mages of respectable skill level, from what I can sense and see.” I answered dutifully.

He nodded and I noticed, not for the first time, that his own aura told me nothing about him. Was his spirit well deep or his mana dense? Hell, I couldn’t even tell if he was actively maintaining any defensive spells or enchantments, though I’m sure he was. His armor was obviously enchanted, but my eyes could discern nothing about it. His aura kind of bled into the flow around him.

“How do you think such kin would react if we just started dragging every mage who gets a little too full of themselves out of their homes in stocks?” he queried, breaking me from my arrant thoughts.

Didn’t really need to think to answer that one. We both knew that wouldn’t end well for anyone. Least of all the citizens of Lioncourt.

“We don’t really need ‘proof’ as much as we just need to be sure.” he stated matter of factly.

“Zhali’s not a mountain that’ll topple quietly; and we’re not going to martyr her! Both honor and politics dictate we be damn sure when we take her down. There’s considerable fallout to consider, even taking into account that she is of the peerage.” He said seriously.

I knew he was right. I didn't like it, but I knew he was right.

The long and short of it was that many awoken in the land were resentful of the scope of authority and freedom to wield that authority that the Ravens had. Royal, noble, and even rich merchant Houses tended not only to employ many adept in the æthereal artes, but were often hereditarily awoken themselves. Most resented that noble and commoner alike had to submit to the Raven Knights in matters of the Arcane. Any reach of authority past what they were comfortable with would start a conflict between the groups that wouldn’t end pretty for anyone.

“The Order may only be about three hundred years old. But no one has forgotten the ‘Seekers’ of old and their oppressive approach to controlling magic down in the Reach.” he warned.

Yeah, I knew. I’d learned all the sorted details about them from Zhali. She often referred to the Raven’s as if they were one in the same, but I’ve never seen my brother's skin and flog anyone in the ‘Name of the Goddess’, before burning the evil out of them. It was important not to give our detractors cause to question us, or awoken another reason to feel persecuted.

With a soft sigh I looked out the window, wondering if I could find an answer there.

“So then what do we do?” I asked. Mostly to myself. I was barely aware that I’d spoken until he answered.

“Not a damn thing...” he shrugged, before summoning the barmaid again.

Before I could protest, he simply shook his head and waved dismissively.

“Right now, it’s Sarissa’s job, and I’m gonna leave her to it. You should too.” he advised.

The Leverin was beautiful, powerful, and intelligent; all good reasons for his trust in her. It also didn’t hurt that she was well over three-hundred years old and was one of the founders of the Order, and probably knew more about everything than either of us. It was foolish to think there was something we could do that she could not.

“So then what are you gonna do then?” I asked

Smiling, he looked at the barmaid as she approached and gave me a wink.

“I thought I might order some valley fried kaari and watch you oggle me a bit more. It’s kind of endearing.” he teased.

At that moment, I was glad I was covered in fur, because I knew for a fact that every bit of flesh underneath was glowing beet red.

The evening from that point on was quite a great deal less serious; and I was happy for it. The Primus and I talked about kaari fishing and local cuisine. The man has a near encyclopedic knowledge of the various ways you can prepare kaari, chicken, and various kinds of sausages made by the small kin.

We spoke of local attractions, such as the whistling wrens that make their home high atop the peak, or Calder’s Trail; the dangerous mountain path, that the towns original founder challenged to get up the mountain, and of course the gondola; a massive piece of machina built by local mages and artificers. It was a marvel of arcane engineering and used the pull of the leyline to draw heavy roped barges up the mountainside. People come from far and wide to ride the thing.

We spoke of simple things, of my childhood and happier times. Of my training under my fathers tutelage. Adolyn had spent his early years trained by his mother and Castle Valestin Master at Arms, a tigress named Mudan, who was originally from these parts. I’d never met the woman myself, but they still tell stories about her. She apparently had quite the temper in her youth.

Like the two of us, she’d ended up a Raven Knight for a number of years before returning to the service of House Valenrow. Despite my numerous inquiries on the subject, Adolyn would not speak of why she left his family’s service, nor why she returned. Only shrugging;

“You’d have to ask her,”, when I asked.

We ate valley fried kaari, which had been perfectly breaded and was flakey and white inside. The young barmaid, who we found was named Keeya, had asked the cook to take special care with our dinner. It was delicious.

The two of us enjoyed a mug or two of mead with the meal and had koeksisters for dessert. The confectionery made of fried dough infused with cane syrup is a regional delicacy. A little gift left behind from travellers from beyond the Esterian Ocean long ago. It looks like a knot of bread glazed in sugary goo. Quite easy on the taste buds, but hard on the fur.

I found the Primus to be interesting and funny. Sensible in a way that you wouldn’t expect from a seasoned warrior. We traded stories about our time as fledglings and I found his perspective on our duty and role in society most informative. It was like there was no pretension in the man, as he openly spoke of his failures and embarrassing missteps on his road to learn the Raven’s business.

He did much to make me feel better about the situation with my family. Though he didn’t bring them up again. He related by speaking of the expectations of his own family, especially his mother who was infamous for her power and brutality in combat. I’d always thought tales of the ‘Death Dealer’ were exaggerated, but Adolyn spoke of his mother the way most speak of revenants. I could tell he both respected and feared her.

Time passed so quickly that the Lily began closing up. Those without rooms upstairs were asked to leave, and our barmaid none too subtly offered to check in on Adolyn tonight should he need anymore ‘service’. She then winked at me and assured me that she wouldn’t mind a little extra company after her nightly duties.

“Cleaning up after close is such tiring work...” she cooed, before letting him know that the staff working over night often stayed in unrented rooms. An offer that would tempt even me had I not had other concerns.

“Looks like I’ll be spending another night in the manor...” I groaned, looking out the window toward the large building. I did not have a room for the night.

Honestly I’d expected to be gone by then. The plan was to have a little cream and be off before sunset. I wasn’t worried about travelling the paths in the dark, but even if I made it to the bottom of the mountain, there would be no caravans leaving the lower villages until morning.

“You can stay with me if you like,” he offered, gesturing to the stairs.

Immediately my jaw slackened and I was at a loss for words. Did he want me to join him in his bed chamber?

“Aren’t there only two beds in your room?” I guessed.

“Won’t Lady Sarissa be bothered?” I asked, trying not to jump to conclusions; but Adolyn didn’t let me off the hook. WInking he replied;

“No, Lady has her own lodging arrangements. I only thought I would need the one bed.”

He then gave me a look that was unmistakably an invitation of another kind.

“I’m sure I can make room for you,” he teased.

It took me a long moment to even register the implication. Even when I had, I could barely believe it. For all my bluster and earlier thoughts of seduction, I hadn’t really thought the evening would really take that kind of turn.

Sheepishly, I turned to ask for clarification, but he was already gone. Up and across the room talking to Keeya. He whispered a few words in her ear and gave her a soft peck on the cheek. It was all very vanilla and tame, until she threw her hands around him and whispered something back.

Since she was short, most would attribute her hands around his waist to her size, but I clearly saw her take a firm grip of his ass as she giggled. Her fellow barmaids, a busty lynx and a mature, but beautiful ringtail did little to hide their envy. Keeya would be the talk of the tavern, having the high lord’s favor.

The coin he then gifted her was worth more than the silver it was made out of. It was a token. A sign that she’d done a service for House Valenrow and she in turn deserved recognition for it. The token would get her favored treatment in the bigger cities and towns in Evandale. I’d never seen one given for such frivolous reasons, but then again, that was just the kind of man the Primus was.

I still sat in my chair when she came by to bust the table.

“Thank you for patronizing the Lily, m’lord. Is there anything you desire before retiring tonight?” she asked formally.

From her smile and the way she looked, I got a hint that she had some clue at my identity. Whether Adolyn had informed her or she knew all along, I wasn’t sure.

“No, thank you, Keeya. You’ve been a most gracious hostess.” I complimented.

Keeya again smiled brightly. Happy a lord would deign to remember her name. She bowed again, gathering everything up in her little basket and promised to see me later in the night. I almost asked what she meant, but then remembered Adolyn’s invitation.

I almost blushed as she gave me a knowing look, handing me a small package with a wink.

“For you my lord. To prepare.”

I didn’t need to ask what was in the small package. It was obvious from the smell. Where other lords may have been offended or downright insulted by her presumption, I had to be nothing but thankful. I hadn’t tended to my hygiene before storming out of the manor. The little bag of soaps and oils given to me by the barmaid would do nicely to prepare me for any encounter I might have with the Primus. Watching her walk away, I decided she was indeed worthy of a noble’s token.

I figured  that if I were going to do something with Count Valenrow, and I was most certainly going to do something with him; that I’d be prepared first.

Keeya had my bag brought to the Primus’ room and led me upstairs down the adjacent hall. On the end of either hall were two washrooms. The one on the far end was communal. I could hear a few men and women laughing and giggling beyond the door. I imagine the only thing separating them was a sheer partition. We aren’t too modest on the peak, but we know many of our Aslanian tourists are. That is what the other baths were for.

On the east end of the top floor was a door that led to four more rooms. These were where those with the coin could pay for more ‘modern’ accommodations. Inside I found a fully functional shower like the kind you see in the manors and castles of rich merchants and nobles; a bit of artificery that used tubes and mana stones to regulate water and heat. They had such luxuries back in the manor, but I didn’t know the Lily’s were quite so fine.

Before I could make mention of it, Keeya began to undress me. I tried to tell her that I would not need her assistance, but she was insistent. So I let her go about her task. It wasn’t as if I was unused to being served in this way.

With practiced ease she was able to remove my armor and set it aside on a large table behind us. She then began taking off my clothes. Folding each garment neatly and setting it in a basket to be laundered. I felt a little vulnerable all naked and exposed in front of a stranger, but Keeya’s aura was light and friendly. Either she was as sweet and helpful as she seemed, or she was one hell of talented quintist. Given that I could see no signs of mana manipulation about her, I figured the former rather than the latter.

She began by pushing me forward into the water, which was a little hotter than I was used to. I yelped, but could not step back. The meerkat stood close behind with a large brush in her hand. Reaching down, she procured the bag she’d given me early and emptied the contents of one of the vials onto the brush, lathering it in until it was full of suds.

“May I, m’lord.” she asked, gesturing. I smiled and let her go about her work.

It was obviously not Keeya’s first go round bathing a man. Though I’m certain my lack of size made it easier on her. Her touch was incredibly gentle when it needed to be, but forceful when she wanted it. She’d started with my chest and worked her way over my shoulders and down my arms. The meerkat paid particular care to my hands, using a fine brush, like the ones we use for our teeth to get right into my claws and paw pads.

When she wanted to clean certain areas, she was not shy. She pushed me forward and kicked my legs apart. My training was the only thing that kept me from falling down. When I turned to protest, I got a catty look as she gripped my tail and ran the brush over my ass. Her delicate hands made short work of the sensitive areas, though she spent a little time making sure my tool was reasonably polished. Though she stopped short of bringing me to climax, an oversight I felt was intentional from the grin she gave me.

Activating the soft wind spell along with a dry heat coming from coals that had been placed in the grating beneath us. It did not take long for my fur to dry and puff up, but Keeya too had this handled as she expertly groomed me from head to toe, making sure I looked immaculate.

With my teeth brushed, fur combed, and hair looking silkier than it had before; I felt refreshed and ready to go face my lord in his rented bedchamber. The barmaid must have felt the same because she unceremoniously placed her fingers between the cheeks of my ass and brushed two of them against my hole. Rubbing something up into the crack.

“Go show him what we’re made of...” encouraged Keeya winking.

“It’s not every day our Duke’s son visits the Peak. I’m sure you will bring great favor upon our humble home, Lord Zane.” she simpered, confirming she knew who I was.

Turns out Keeya and I had met once before, back in my wild youth. She was the daughter of one of the local millers. Though I could not place her family’s name, I remembered the event well enough.

It was one of the fonder memories of my ‘radical teens’. After being bullied by the daughter of one the local rich merchants about my effeminate looks and predilictions at a party, I decided to get my revenge by fucking her fiance. I had it on good authority that he liked to give as well as he got, and was determined to use my considerable length to make him my bitch.

I know, it was terribly petty, but I was insulted.

Things took a different turn however. Nothing unpleasant, mind you, just not as I’d plan. In lieu of a night of making some commoner bounce on my cock like some bitch in heat, I ended up in the company of the fine lion and several of his friends. All strapping and handsome kin with an apparent fondness for effeminate little tigers. Not only did I have my way with that insufferable shrews lover, but her brother and his friends as well.

It ended up being the beginning of a long and eventful summer. Keeya’s brother had been the well hung meerkat who’d enjoyed pounding my ass like a drum. The suricata had been quite the talented stud. I recalled his name, Moeng, and the sensuous times we’d had together. I was both disappointed and a little sad to hear that he’d ended up marrying that stuffy bitch. I’m sure he deserved better.

As sure as the sun rises and then sets each day, I am entirely sure that hag doesn’t deserve such a fine male specimen, but I guess she needed ‘someone’. After our beautiful summer, her fiance decided he was more accomplished taking cock rather than administering it. Perhaps had he had a better quality of ladykin in his life, he’d have simply taken to a good pegging every now and then.

Unfortunately that's not how things went, and there was a glorious scandal when he broke their engagement to be the bitch boy for some Aslanian nobleman. The remembrance brought a smile to my face. You can be sure I sent ‘condolences’ on behalf of my family for her embarrassing loss.

“I took the liberty of finding something appropriate for the evening. I’d heard something like this might be to your liking, m’lord.” she beamed handing me the bundle. As I looked at the garments I nodded in approval. It wasn’t of a quality that I was used to, but it certainly looked like something I’d wear.

I decided I liked Keeya’s boldness and wished to reward her for it. Reaching into my coin purse sitting on the table, I grabbed a little gift of my own for her. If she enjoyed having a token from one noble, I'm sure she’d appreciate one more. Afterall, if she was anything like her older brother I’m sure she would be most appreciative of my gratitudes.

I handed her the coin and she handed me the bundle of clothes. Thanking her with a small kiss on the cheek, I dismissed her to get dressed. Soon I would be ready to face Adolyn.

When I entered the room the Count was sitting on a chair near the window. He barely looked up from his book as I closed the door behind me. Far from nervous, I could barely contain my excitement, as I had forgone wearing a robe on my trek from the washroom. Feeling adventurous, I decided to sashay down the hall dressed in the audaciously feminine outfit Keeya had provided for me.

My tail danced as I recalled the exhilaration I felt at the danger that someone might step in the hall and see me. I wasn’t exactly dressed modestly.

The nightwear Keeya provided was a sheer black gown with laced panties. The front was two simple sheets of fabric that wrapped down around from a circlet on the neck, into a longer cloth that fell behind me. There were thigh high stockings and detached sleeves that I decided to accessories with a pair of gold bangles I always kept in my pack. A little gift from an Aslanian lover who liked it rough. A small impression on the outside could attach to a very special chain that he liked to use to bind me to things. That too was an exciting memory.

As I waited to be acknowledged, I stood confidently, hand caressing the heart charm on my choker. He looked up slowly, but did not seem at all surprised by my attire. Instead, he simply whistled his approval.

“Well now, nice to see rumors of your boldness weren’t exaggerated. That’s a very becoming ensemble.” he grinned.

The compliment helped keep my confidence up and I decided to do a little twirl to show him the goods.

“I take it this is to your liking...” I teased, and the Primus nodded his approval.

Casually, he sat his book down and stood from the table. His crimson hair shifted to cover one of his steel blue eyes. The expression on his face was welcoming, but didn’t hold the undercurrent of hunger and lust I’d come to expect from my eager male callers.

I watched him as he studied me nonchalantly. Considering my curves and contours. My eyes, lips, and face. It was as if I was being weighed and measured, and despite myself, I hoped that I would not be found wanting.

He said nothing as he did so. Giving no indication of whether or not he was indeed impressed. To my slight anxiety he decided to lock those beautiful blue globes on me. Staring right into my eyes. It was enough to fix me in place. I barely had enough wits about me to notice him close the distance between us. One moment he was near the window, then I was looking up at the chest fur peeking out from behind his shirt.

Adolyn was fit... Well and truly. Outside of his armor I could see how his chest seemed too long to be free from it’s clothy constraints. The man smelled like juniper and sandalwood, with a small hint of musk that I found both manly and enticing. My hands were up and probing before I’d even thought to do so.

“Well... aren’t you a proper stud?” I managed to eek out.

It wasn’t my best line, but it was all I could come up with at the time. I don’t think he minded though. He leaned close, his breath beating slowly against my ear before he whispered;

“You’re quite the specimen yourself, young Darkpaw.”

His voice had a tone to it that had been absent earlier. Though he still held an easy casualness in his voice, there was now the air of authority that had been so absent before. I leaned back to look up into his eyes and what met me was an intense, dominant stare. The fire inside my lions perked up when he said in a commanding tone;

“You’ve got quite the pretty little mouth on you, kid. I’d like to see it swallowing my dick.”

He didn’t blink, he didn’t stutter, and he didn’t stop smiling. He simply stood there watching to see what I would do. I could tell from the look in his eyes he didn’t expect anything less than compliance. Looking down at the thick bulge between his legs, I certainly wasn’t going to deny him. With a nod, I went down on my knees face to face with his burning need.

Gingerly I untied his knickers, letting them drop to the floor without ceremony. I was rewarded with a quick whack to the face, as Adolyn’s cock shot up like a soldier rising to attention. It’d thumped me right in the nose, making me incredibly aware of his scent. From what I could smell, he too must have washed for the occasion. His fur was still a bit damp as I placed my hands on his thighs.

The man's cock was modestly impressive. I’d seen bigger, hell, I’ve fucked horses; and Zhali is a Caenisian daughter whose considerable length has put most men I’ve ever seen to shame. Still, the Primus was by no means average. His penis was as thick as my wrist, and at least nine inches by my estimate. Perfectly pink with a thick vane or three, it looked delicious.

I also enjoyed the noble kins balls. They were hefty and permeated his unique scent. I pushed my nose between the two soft orbs and basked in their majesty. I don’t know why, but I absolutely love a man with nice hefty balls!

Before I knew it I had one of the furry spheres in my mouth, the other gently massaging my chin as I lost myself in his manly aroma. The feel of my tongue hungrily licking and noisily slurping on his heavy package caused my own arousal to rise.

His stones felt weighty in my mouth as I went from the left to right, undecided on which I enjoyed suckling more. My hands instinctively went to his shaft where I carefully ran my fingers down his length. I felt his body tense a little as the paw pad of my thumb brushed softly against the crown of his engorged member. The sensation of his warm flesh against my hand as I stroked him stiffened my own cock and I couldn’t help but attend to it with my free hand.

Adolyn stood stoic for a good while, just letting me enjoy worshiping at the altar of his lingam. I’d almost climaxed when he took a half step back and his nuts audibly popped out of my mouth. My whimpers of disappointment were decidedly unmanly, but my attempts to lean forth and return the salty morsels to my maw were met with a hard slap in the face by the man’s thick shaft.

The first batted down on my nose like one would discipline an unruly cub. The next two were a bit harder, on the sides of my maw, smearing precum across my muzzle. When I looked up questioningly, I was rewarded with a third and forth right to my lips, as Adolyn gripped the back of my head tightly.

“Woah there, little bird. I thought I asked you to suck my ‘cock’?” he teased, smearing the organ across my lips.

Count Valenrow’s hand rubbed the back of my head in a heavy circle, as he continued to slap his dick over my face. With each ‘strike’ I managed to lick out my tongue and get a taste of the lovely rod, as his salty leavings stained my snout.

Enjoying the taste and the intentions, I eagerly rolled my tongue wide around my lips, lapping up what could be tasted. Longing to know the full flavor of his balmy member. He teased and toyed with me as I in turn toyed with myself, trying desperately to build back up the heights of pleasure I was so close to attaining.

That is when Sir Adolyn struck. Without warning I felt his thick thumb against my lip and instinctively began to kiss, then part my lips to suck on the digit. My Primus leaned forward, kissing me on the nose and told me how beautiful I was. I purred into his hand like a kitten and continued to press my lips against his digit, longing for his cock. He would not make me wait much longer.

Pulling his thumb softly down and to the side, he parted my maw whispering;

“Good boy,” Before telling me he had a nice treat for me, and I knew what kind.

My elation grew to a fever pitch as the thick mushroom head of his manhood parted my lips and slid easily into my eager mouth. The taste, the smell, and the feel of the veins and soft flesh against my tongue made me swoon. It wasn’t long before Adolyn used his grip on the back of my head to pull me to him, hilting his cock deep down my throat.

At first he just held it there, letting me gag on the sheer girth of the appendage. I heard him murmur as my throat vibrated and trembled. trying to adjust. Over my tongue I felt a torrent of saliva build up in response to having the large organ invade my mouth. After a bit of soft coughs and a little gagging, Adolyn pulled back, his cock slavered with my sputum.

“Yeah, that’s it... let’s see if you’ve been practicing your breathing exercises.” He cooed. His penis jittered a bit as he rolled the head around my tongue.

I made the mistake of trying to answer him. Trying and failing to not totally lose my own agency in the encounter, but this must have been what he was waiting for. Adolyn chose that moment to reinsert his cock right down to the base. His heavy nutsack slapping against my chin as he again firmly held me in place. This time I did gag as I sputtered on my lost words. Above me he murmured encouragement as he patted the back of my head.

For some reason, choking on a nice thick penis is something that fulfills me greatly. The shock, the danger, the sheer depravity of it all. Something about it makes me feel decidedly uncultured... and I kind of like it. As a lordling and member of the nobility I'm expected to act all prim and proper most times. Rarely am I able to be myself before a kin such as this. We are all of us actors, playing the part of the civilized society when all eyes are upon us; but I much rather like seeing the truth of people in sexual situations. I find that people are a lot more honest when they’re engrossed in their own desires; and I was so happy that I was among one of my lord’s. So much so, that it took only a few strokes and the man's cock lodged in my throat, to make me blow my first load right there on the floor.

It was fortunate that I’d manage to do so when I did, because Adolyn decided that that was a perfect moment to start furiously fucking my face.

With one hand gripping my hair and the other resting just beneath my chin, the ‘Hero of Herald’s Keep’ had full control of me. It was all I could do to lick out my tongue, work my throat, and try desperately to breathe out of my nose, as he pulled sharply on my hair to sheath his dick down my throat. Then, with speed and rhythm, he’d pull back, almost all the way, before doing it again with the buck of his hips.

Over and over he slammed his dick down my throat, and each time I did my best to lick and suckle as he throat fucked me. Though I’d taken horse cocks much bigger in the past, Adolyn’s skill seemed practiced and refined. His form as you would call it was immaculate and I found myself hardening again just wondering what it looked like to see me at his mercys.

He went on like that, giving my mouth pussy inch after inch of firm pink flesh for what seemed like hours, but only about ten minutes had passed. I had to push both hands to the floor as I squatted down, trying to keep my balance. Through the sloshing, gagging, and the sound of his sack repeatedly batting against my chin, I was vaguely aware of the sound my tail was making as it hammered against the floor. I was like a kitten with a toy and my whole body was pleased. I was unashamed to purr like a molly in heat, enjoying every second of the intense encounter.

The Primus warned me before he came. Letting me know that I’d be getting a taste of ‘His Thirnacian Cream’. There was certainly a lot of it.

Adolyn held me firm in his grasp as he pulled his dick back so that his sticky seed would fall right on my tongue, giving me a chance to relish his flavor. Thick globs of cum ran over my tongue, filling my mouth. So much semen that I couldn’t even handle it all.

I tried to swallow as much of the sticky treat as I could. Loving the taste and the feel of it as it ran down the gullet, but there was just too much. After sensing I’d taken all I could, the caracal quickly removed his shaft from my maw and proceeded to paint my muzzle and face white with his noble seed. I was in awe of just how much there was.

My liege grunted as his spurted load after load over my face, unconcerned with where his sticky cream may land. He got it in my hair and all over my face. I could smell it’s pungence as it covered my nose and spilled to the floor. I made the mistake of opening my eyes to see if he was done and managed to just barely miss a shot to my eyes. It was as if he wanted me thoroughly masked by his jizzm. A sign that he owned me and I would be his whenever he wanted. Or so my depraved mind kind of hoped.

If he indeed thought such a thing he would not be disappointed. If my lord wanted to use me as his fuck toy, he wouldn’t need to ask. Fealty means many things to many people, but I am more than happy to play the part of paramour for such a man. Hell, I’d be honored.

I managed to cough out a little;

“Wow,” and let him know that he ‘got me good’, as I pawed around next to me for the bed. There were no towels and I doubted he’d want me to be wiping his jizzim on his nice white shirt. So I used the comforter.

Vaguely, I sensed him moving around me as I slowly cleared my face of his semen, but was surprised when I felt his hands wrap around my waist. I barely got out a ‘huh?’, as he lifted me and tossed me on the bed.

The caracal was like lightning. Following me down and pressing his body against me. I felt his chest at my head as his nimble fingers made quick work of what little passed for clothing that I was wearing. I felt bad for Keeya when he used a claw to simply rip my panties right off me, tossing them aside. Between my cheeks, my tailhole puckered as his pelvis loomed over my ass.

“Just fucking take me!” I moaned, leaning my head back to lick his chin. He rewarded me with a strong kiss, as his hands caressed my buttocks and took a firm grip. His paw slapped across it twice causing a little sting and me to cry out in pleasure.

“Not until you tell me exactly what you want,” he insisted.

Whining through heavy breaths, I licked feverishly at his muzzle.

“I want you to fuck me! I want you to throw me down and fill my ass with that fat cock of yours!” I loudly admitted.

The admission must have pleased the high lord, because he laughed heartily as he slapped my ass again.

“Well said, kid, well said! I like a little honesty in my bedmates.” flirted the handsome carcal, before nibbling my ear.

His hand then took a firmer grip of my ass, moving in small circles around, tracing a pattern in my fur. His warm tongue licked down my ear, then over my head, to my throat, leaving a trail of spittal to run through the fine hairs at the nape of my neck. I cried out in sensual pain as he bit down deep just below my shoulder, hard enough to draw a little blood. The soft flesh of his lips, lining his darkened maw pushed fur aside, so that he could lap up what little there was of my wound, sending a pleasurable shiver down my body.

Gingerly his finger traced around the entrance of my needy hole. With feverish words I begged him to stop toying with me, but he simply continued. I felt his hot body against my back as he reached around with his free hand and grabbed my considerable length carefully.

“Not yet...” he whispered.

“Maybe if you begged a little more.” suggested Adolyn, massaging both of my erogenous zones. His paw was amazingly delicate as he ran it up and down my length with an expertise I almost envied. He knew just how to touch me. With his body above, I could barely do anything but wiggle my ass as he latched my tail between his index and thumb, and rotated the next two around my pink slit. It was more than enough to make me beg and beseech for the count to just take me.

I must have cried out loud enough to wake the dead when he finally decided to push the two thick digits inside. The ointment Keeya had rubbed there made access incredibly easy. The man was relentlessly pushing forward and pressing into my sensitive areas. It was if he was studying me like some specimen, seeing just what reaction he got when he touched here or there. While he did so, he didn’t cease in his efforts to set my dick on fire. I felt embarrassed as my climax sprung up on me out of nowhere and I released my second load right on to his hand.

Adolyn didn’t stop at the sound of my orgasm, nor did he seem to care for my cries of reprieve. My penis was sensitive and my asshole felt too amazing as I continued to spend myself onto the bed. All the while his hand continued to paw at my dick, making me shiver and shake. When at last I could take the intense pleasure no more, I opened my mouth to voice a protest, and got a mouth full of my own spunk instead.

My lord had reached his cum covered mitts up and silenced my shouts forcefully. I felt his fingers leave my hole suddenly, finding their way to the back of my knee. In a maneuver I would not have thought possible before, the room flipped end over end. Adolyn had me off my knees and on my back easily, his hand still pressed to my mouth.

“You’ve been a very patient boy, Zane. I think I’ll reward your fortitude.” He grinned, lining his cock up to my rear entry. I swear to you I saw stars when he thrusted forward, hilting himself in me. The sensation of his thick warm dick in my needy little asshole was almost enough to make me cum again. I even felt a trickle of semen run down my dick as he leaned in, rubbing it around inside me. With the glow of the light above us highlighting him like some Eternian come to life, I was more than ready to let him have his way with me.

Once again the ‘Crimson Raven’ did not disappoint. If he was half as good with his sword as he was with his rod, then the man was a martial master with few peers. The way he gyrated his hips so that every thrust hit a few points inside me, before hilting against his waist felt amazing. Every vein, every ridge, the entire length of his erection; I could feel it all with a clarity that made me wonder where I ended and he began.

Keeya’s cream proved it’s worth as the tingling sensation it caused was experienced by both him and me. It made every thrust and drive of his fat fuck stick send lightning up my spine. I could barely think as my body just pushed back in pace with the man's powerful stroke. There was rhythm to it that I could just barely understand as my mind misted up with bliss.

“Oh Goddess... OH GODDESS!” My voice cried out. Though I wasn’t really sure if I had spoken at all. Adolyn’s strong hands gripped me on my thigh and pulled back on my ankle, locking me in place. Apparently as the passion rose within me, my body instinctively tried to get distance. Fortunately, my talented lover was not about to let me get away. Holding me there firmly he continued to pound my ass for all it’s worth, giving me just what I’d begged for.

Time lost all meaning while the two of us bred like wild stallions. When he finally came, it was like a warm glass of thick milk shot into my ass. An injection of cream that made me feel like some well kneaded pastry. The man certainly built up quite an ejactulation. With a warmth filling me and his thick cock tickling my walnut just right, I came for the third and final time in a torrent of ecstacy.

I felt sticky, but satisfied, as he slowly removed his length from my now gaping hole. Exhausted and barely able to lift my head, I was barely aware of him admiring his handiwork.

“Not a bad day’s work, if I do say so myself.” I heard him snicker while he watched my whole pucker and pulse. A river of cum flowing from my ass to the bed.

Despite my best effort, I was too tired to respond. I tried to say ‘thank you’, but could barely mouth the words as my heavy breathing stole my voice. In the back of my mind I was aware of my own ejaculation still dripping down onto my tummy, but I couldn’t be bothered to look, let alone do something about it.

Before I could pass out however I heard a knock on the door. The sudden sound in the dead of night startled me, but Adolyn didn’t seem concerned.

“Enter, it’s not locked” he called out. My eyes must have gotten big cause his grin turned wicked as panic and embarrassment started to show on my face. There was no time to voice my concern though, because the door opened slowly and to my surprise Keeya was standing there in an outfit similar to my own.

“Do not think me presumptuous, m’lords, but if you wish it, I would be happy to show you my gratitude for your generosity.”

Adolyn’s smile deepened as he looked at me with mirth in his eyes.

“I think my friend here has another round in him.” he replied, not taking his eyes off me. Looking up, I smiled back, my breathing finally calming down.

“How can I say no to you, my Primus.” I heaved. Satisfied with the invitation, Keeya closed the door slowly and locked it at Adolyn’s order. The rest of the night was spent having wild, incredible sex, and for a time in a while I’d forgotten all of my troubles.

I had thought at the beginning of the night that my vacation had been an unmitigated disaster. Goddess knows had I just left the Peak it’d been one that I would have soon longed to forget, but Adolyn changed all that. As I stared blankly at the ceiling, thoroughly satisfied and equally spent from the night's escapades, I was glad I decided to come home. Consciousness left me quickly then. My last visions were of the handsome lord to whom I owed both fealty and respect.

Zhali may not take me seriously and begrudge my place in the order, but that was the first day I realized that my brother and sister Raven’s did not feel the same. Count Adolyn would whisper to me;

“You are more than you know...” as he kissed my forehead and sent me off to sleep. And for the first time since I’d arrived home, my dreams were of pleasant things, instead of my haunts and fears. For that alone it was a good visit.