A Daemon-Horn BladeChapter 8 free porn video

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The first significant threat of danger came a few days later, on their fifth day of the voyage, as the crew was putting out the dinner campfire, and nearly everyone was preparing their bedrolls along the shore. Knowing that he was unlikely to get any sleep, yet once again, Rowan volunteered to take the first camp watch, to stay up until the moon was in the center of the night sky. One of the crewmen, Tashyl, was taking his turn to hold a similar watch onboard the boat, in case trouble came from the river or something attempted to cut the boat loose from its anchor, allowing it to drift away and thus maroon the crew.

Nearly from the start of the watch, Rowan thought he could hear slight movements and rustling in the trees and bushes that didn't quite follow or match the gusts of the wind. It had rained earlier in the morning, but dark clouds still mostly obscured the moon, and hinted at more rain later that night or sometime early the next day. With one hand kept ready at his sword, he kept a constant watch for the next hour, until he was certain that something was indeed amiss. He was walking over to Boyle to nudge him awake, when something in his mind cried out alarm and he drew his sword and ducked his head, just in time to avoid a short spear that had been thrown from out of the darkness straight at his throat.

"Alarm!" He cried out, and, nearly at once, his sword burst into bright flame, illuminating the entire camp quite brightly enough, so that he could clearly see the group of Goblins that was now racing into the camp, armed mostly with short flint tipped spears or poor daggers and short swords. While Goblins were said to be a rather clever race, they were at best but average weapon smiths, and they didn't normally have the will or patience to mine coal and gather bog iron or dig ore, for working a forge, except to arm their leaders, or to trade weapons for food or coin with the Boar-Men. Some of the younger night-goers might only be armed with a sharpened stick, which had been hardened in a fire. Their weapons might be poor, but deadly enough, if their prey had been caught completely by ambush, totally unaware.

Individually, Goblins could be occasionally quite brave and daring, but as a group or in a war-party, they tended to fight cautiously and extremely conservatively, taking few, if any, risks. They often fled to safety once any loot had been taken, or if their resistance was greater than expected. Tonight, with their prey alerted nearly at once, and each human now well-armed with good weapons at hand, and forwarned just before the first sneak attacks could be successful, the raid-leader paused, wondering whether or not to sound an immediate retreat. As the fighting started, he could tell at once that this particular attack had been a mistake, and he and his personal bodyguard melted off into the woods, leaving most of his band of forty goblins to their own fate. Most of the rest quickly as well decided to flee as well, to fight another day, but others never got that opportunity.

Rowan's flaming sword cut the band of small, waist height attackers down in rows, like ripe wheat before a scythe. In just moments, he had slaughtered nearly a dozen of the tiny foe, before the rest fled away from him in abject terror. The guardsman and the armed crewmembers each had lesser but similar sorts of success, each killing a few more each, of the early doomed first wave of attackers.

Less than a minute after the attack had begun, the clearing was empty of live goblins, and a full two dozen of the night-folk lay dead on the ground. None of the fallen contained anything of any value or interest, and the dead were quickly and quietly consigned to the river for burial. The fish and alligators would feed well upon the unfortunate nihtgenga, and Rowan hoped that the survivors would spread the word that their boat was not an easy target for plundering, to the other Goblin tribes.

The fact that the Lore-Master seemed moved to obvious near tears by their death was puzzling, but Oddtus would not speak of the matter at all. Still, before each small corpse was toss into the water for burial the Foole uttered a few words of prayer in strange tongue, perhaps, as Rowan thought that it was of the night-goers.

Occasionally over the next two days, until they reached the portentous Dead Tree Junction Island, which lay nearly in the middle of the river, near the convergence of the Elm River and several other smaller ones into the Emerald, other Goblins were occasionally sighted in the gloom of the tree-line that grew nearly up to the very edge of the river. But after sighting the boat, they quickly disappeared into the shadows and never menaced The Lady Ellyn again.

Still other problems, other than night-goers, threatened this part of the river. Here near the island, at the conjunction of several small rivers and streams, the north bank was ominously near the tall foothills of the northern barrier mountains, being perhaps, at most, only a day or two of travel away. These northern mountains most certainly contained fierce tribes of Boar-Men and other monstrous creatures of fame and legend, as well. Settlements had been attempted on the north bank of the river, in this area, before, and the infamous landmark of the Dead Tree, itself, was such a place. A great huge dead tree, entirely bare of leaves or even moss, had formerly grown in the center of where a small island town had been and was a clear landmark on the river.

The town had been constructed many years ago on this fair sized island in the midst of the river, and was about similar in size to the Duke's Island near Swanford, and the river was quite wide and relatively shallow here, too. In fact, the shoreline in much of this region was pretty much fetid murky swampland, with many mangroves and cypress trees growing in the shallower parts of the river. It had been sacked and burned at least three times in the past, that Coryn, the knowledgeable Captain had heard of, and it had been left deserted for at least the last five years or so. Another nearby walled town, Silana, clung to survival and was about a day's sail past Dead Tree, at the point where a large river, the Elm, entered the Emerald.

Taking the Elm River south, upstream, was still very much a debated option for the party. This route would take the boat down to the trading town of Elmcrygh, where a good paved road could be taken for a great many leagues southeast. The Foole hoped that, once they reached the town of Silana, they could gather enough information about the local conditions and expected dangers, to make a more educated choice for their next step of the journey.

Since the danger of submerged logs was especially great here at this slower and shallower part of the river, the Captain warned, the boat now reduced its load of sails, and an additional crewman was posted forward with a long twenty-foot pole that he used to measure the river's depth as they slowly crept forward cautiously. The river seemed dangerously shallow when measured on the southern side of the river, so, with obvious and considerable discontent, the Captain gently steered the boat a bit closer to Dead Tree Island than he would have preferred. His second mate, Beryl, was much more concerned about that particular danger than her husband, and she was soon trying to convince her master that they were already too close to the island for safety. Her argument was proven entirely accurate by an arrow that bore straight through the very center of her back, and quite pierced her heart from behind. The large jagged arrowhead quite entirely emerged from the front of her chest, between her bare breasts, and killed her quite suddenly dead, even before her body slowly slumped over and struck the deck next, to the Captain's wheelhouse.

At once the crew and the boats passengers sprang into action. With a flying tackle, Boyle knocked the Lady Ayleth flat onto the deck, so that the thick four-foot high railing gave them full cover from sight, and, hopefully, from further arrow fire. Then, crawling along the deck, he wrenched open the forward cargo hold and he pushed the screaming and protesting Lady down into it, once again shutting the hatch closed, when she was safely below. Her bodyguard Lieutenant had not been especially close to her at the time, and he scowled, as another black fletched arrow just missed his head, and he ran below decks to safety. His other three guards, who had been mostly lounging around on the sides of the deck, grabbed bows and attempted to return the missile fire. The great rain of dark red-fletched arrows that fell upon them, soon drove them all to hide behind the solid deck railing for shelter, as well. Now they understood why the ship was so protected, instead of having the usual open banister railings that most ships had.

Rowan, from his usual spot near the taffrail, at the stern, had slightly better success with his own archery duel, and he kept popping in and out of cover, as he managed to fire some fairly accurate shots, which might have indeed wounded a foe or two, but his fire certainly kept other foes hiding for cover, rather than firing more volleys into the boat and its crew. Other of the crewmen, all expert archers enjoyed much better success with their own suppressing arrow fire, and the hail storm of missiles soon dwindled into a more endurable and lighter shower of irregularly fired arrows. The Captain, quite protected in his small shielded Pilot's wheelhouse, steered the best course he could, with his reduced sail load, around the island, until, a few minutes later, the ship's stern passed, finally, out of arrow range from the island.

Most of the crew was uninjured, but a couple had wounds, a few even suffered grievous ones. The worst was the nimble lass, Gaylyn, who was most exposed to arrow fire, while she was up on the watch-seat on top of the forward mast, and she was struck gravely by two arrows in her vitals and died later that evening of her wounds. The malevolent looking sergeant of the guard, Worrel, was hit twice as well, but neither the wound in his shoulder nor in his upper thigh appeared to be life threatening. Another of the guards received a slight flesh wound to his non-sword wielding arm, and he was soon bandaged and expected to make a full and swift recovery.

Of the red feathered arrows, nothing more needed to be said. These were the crafting of the Eorfleode, the Boar-Men. Generally, Oddtus mentioned to Rowan and Boyle later, after the wounded had been tended, they were, at best, only adequate archers. Also, their weapons and, especially, their armor tended to be crude and of often, rather inferior quality. If anything, their race had even less skill at the forge, than the night-going race that they terrorized, often enslaved, and frequently, cruelly commanded as auxiliaries. In numbers, and in ambush, the Boar-Men could be dangerous archers, where quantity of missile fire could make up for their lack of individual accuracy, as today's encounter had demonstrated.

This explained why the crew had not seen any other west-bound ships, since they had left Swanford. Dead Tree Island was now the home of a significant number of Boar-Men, and they were, now, well in control of the entire river trade, able to choke it off nearly entirely, from this central point.

In most land battles, the Boar-Men valued physical strength and the defeat of an enemy within arm's length, thus demonstrating the courage and bravery of the individual warrior. In battle they fought as individuals, and rarely ever ran away, even if the odds were much against them. They tended to fight bravely, but often stupidly.

As the Lore-Master remarked, 'No one has ever accused any Boarman of the crime of being a genius, or the even worse felony of showing any common sense'. Most, in fact, were little brighter than particularly dense and 'simple' children; even their leaders were selected for their individual courage, and feats of arms in single combat with rivals, rather than for any skill in actually leading a war-band. Logistical planning and preparation, the hallmark of coordinated and effective human armies, was an entirely alien concept to their culture, and distained as showing 'timidity' and 'lack of will' to aggressively face their enemies.

It was indeed a happy thing, the Lore-Master concluded, that the Boar-Men rarely ever cooperated in attacks involving more than two or three war-tribes combined together, each war-tribe usually never larger than a hundred warriors each. The idea of ever uniting all of the tribes in a region under a single mighty leader was nearly unthinkable to their culture, since each tribe would just as happily raid and attack their own brethren, as launch an assault upon human settlements that were usually further away. Only rarely had such large unifications ever occurred, always, then, under the command of a more much powerful creature or outsider, strong or powerful enough to make them fear this new leader more than they hated each other. More than anything else, the Eorfleode, the creation of the Aðbaernesa, the Goddess of Decay & Destruction and of Death & Rebirth, lived but to hate and kill; each other, their kin, and the entire world around them that they resented and could never hope to understand.

Now, away from the island in relative safety, with the danger over, for now, the crew nearly fell apart, at once, in sadness and shock. Tory, the rather impulsive first mate and the bound-consort to the fallen Beryl, alternated between grief and a great vengeful desire to return to the island, to exact his retribution for his wife's death. The Swanford lads were of a mind to agree with him, despite the fearful odds, but the Foole was watchful of their martial enthusiasm and bade them to keep to their own counsel for yet awhile, until they could reach Silana, when they could better gauge the dangers of their situation. The Lady's bodyguard, weakened already with two injuries, was certainly in no shape for further combat, nor was this their assigned duty. The Lady briefly came back atop deck, to see the aftermath of the battle for herself, and pinching her lips as tightly as they would go in her fear. Soon, once again, she retreated to the safety of her cabin, without uttering a single word to the survivors atop deck.

Even adding a bit more sail, to make some extra speed, didn't really speed the journey to the nearby river town of Silana, noticeably, and Rowan's hands were white with anger and frustration, as he clinched the edge of the stern taffrail. Boyle was up at the front, giving comfort and encouragement to the sailors, and lending a hand however he could be useful. His lady friend Brenga was especially distraught at the mortal wounding of her friend Gaylyn, and, together, hand-in-hand they went below to where she was being attended, so that they could be by her side when her spirit left for the Shadowlands.

"Rowan," Oddtus quietly said into Rowan's ear, as he placed his arm comfortingly across his broad, strong shoulders, "enough terrible things have already happened, since the start of this adventure, that it is quite worse still, when yet more tragedy strikes. I know well in my heart, too, and it never becomes any easier to understand and accept, nor perhaps should it! On the other hand, I could tell by your unease, since we have boarded this vessel that another matter equally disturbs you as well. You sit here quietly and look out behind you, always looking towards the past ... not the challenges that still lie just ahead of you!"

"Foole, it is certain that you are very wise and you try now to speak wisdom to me, but I would surrender any glory that any Duke or King could ever offer me, if I was but still an innocent young man enjoying my life in a quiet village. I did not aspire, ask, pray, or even dream for any of this! My friends are in peril; my past is now a forsaken memory and my future is increasingly likely to be a short, but memorable one. You shall have your epic song, my friend and joculator, but I doubt that it shall be a happy cheerful song, or that you shall be showered in gold marks, upon its telling."

"Danger confronts all of us, everyday and everywhere. Often, it is too dangerous to even consider arising out of bed each morning, but most of us do it anyway ... and occasionally not even come to regret it. The story shall be worth the telling — of that I am sure."

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The young accused witch Hilda was a bit of a nuisance to I, Alphonse D' Paris because she was constantly at my side like a shadow cast by the angle of the sun. Fortunately, my dalliance with Drusilla did not suffer due to the strange effect the girl's presence seemed to have whilst I held the willing juicy wench in close embrace. She was never as emotional as when she knew the young girl's eyes were on my cock sliding into one of her available openings. I had no problem with that at all...

2 years ago
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His Horn Blew at MidnightChapter 6

Despite the tragic circumstances of my receiving this estate as a reward for my noble lineage, I was much impressed with the surrounding fertile fields now under my control and the obvious successful industry of the folk who owed their fealty to my rule. I had nothing to do with the terrible fate that had befallen the previous masters and was not in the least complicit in their horrible end. Still, the villagers looked at me and my retinue with some noticeable degree of reservation because...

3 years ago
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His Horn Blew at MidnightChapter 7

The castle was bustling with activity upon our return. Apparently, we would be expecting a visit from the royal court to see how our new management had been progressing in the shire. I could only offer my benevolent acceptance of the steps taken by the subordinates who seemed in full grasp of the needed work to be accomplished and I just relaxed and hoped for the best. It seemed to me that the workers were not so much concerned about who was in charge but didn't want outside interference...

1 year ago
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His Horn Blew at MidnightChapter 8

My journey back to AD833 had been for the most part an enjoyable romp with many young nubile females of willing attitudes. It was a fact, however, that I had not been successful in finding a female who was willing to sacrifice herself for me out of true love. It was a fitting outcome because I had spent my adult life in the twentieth century as a wanton slut using men for my personal pleasure and giving them nothing in return except my sexual favors which had no value to me at all. I most...

4 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeAttachment A

The Divine: The Weaver's - The Three Great Goddesses; Urðra, Veránda & Skúlda - the Maiden, the Matron and the Crone. They spin, weave and shear our fates into the Ymbwyrcan — the Great Tapestry of Life, to which even the Younger Gods are subject. The Younger Gods, the Æðelings: Seven brothers and sisters. All except for Yfelde Soð are either presumed dead or Banished) Grund — God of the Earth Lagufæ - Sea Goddess Gléagerád — God of Mirth and Wisdom Gældra — Goddess of Spirit...

1 year ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeAttachment B

Crystal Lake City of Tellismere (Capitol of Duchy, where the short Klure River flows west into the Great Western Sea from Crystal Lake) Village of Swanford (just east of Crystal Lake up the Emerald River) City of Evesham (coastal southern port of the Bekingham River, where it flows south from Crystal Lake) Town of Meribren (small coastal town) Town of Alnmouth (small coastal town near the Juniper Mountains) Dead Tree Island (ruined town along a dangerous point of the Emerald...

1 year ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeAttachment C

Dukes Summer Island Castle and Village of Swanford Emerald River and River Guard Tower Crystal Falls and Brittle Mountains Beran Island & Village (Meaning Bear) Hanna Island & Archaic Ruins (Forbidden) Osweleg Island & Village (Meaning Oswyn's Island) Docks & Walled Town of Haldyne Walled Town of Lacestone Walled City of Applewood (or Apeleia "Apple Tree Clearing") Bekingham River (Flows South to Coastal City of Gemehold) Roger's Ford (Highest River Crossing...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladePrologue

The Maiden Urðra frowned as she reached into her box of raw threads and discarded handful after handful. 'Too dark!' She muttered, mostly to herself, as she drove her hand into her spinning box yet deeper, to find something newer and brighter ... or at least something different. "Yes indeed." The Matron Veránda muttered in concurrence. "The weaving has been much too dark, as of late, and my next panel could do with a bit of brightness." "Quite so!" The Crone Skúlda rasped with...

4 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 1

If there had been a nicer mid-summer, late afternoon in Swanford, then Rowan couldn't remember it. The sun was warm, and very nicely so, but there was enough of a western breeze, off of the ocean and the lake, to keep even the hot forge from being a sweltering place of misery. Off and on all day, he had been hearing sounds of laughter and play from the river, probably from the region of the Lily Lake, but for awhile yet Rowan had some last remaining duties to perform before he could think...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 2

The young friends finished their meal and parted ways for the evening. Bryce was needed back at the bridge guard tower for duty, until the caravan was unloaded down at the southern warehouse, and Boyle wanted to be back at the stables to look over the horses. He would have a busy night attending to them, especially the injured ones, and he would likely also spend much, if not all, of his day tomorrow helping to repair any damage to the wagons. Half-day of scheduled work or not, Boyle was...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 5

Oddly, the fear of running out of money during the long overland journey soon proved to be a chimerical concern. If anything, their coin purses just seemed to grow fatter and heavier with every stop that they made along the road! Right from the very start, Oddtus had made some sort of deal with a westward going caravan heading towards the big walled city of Apeleia (Applewood) offering to share his 'two personal guards' to help guard their caravan, for just a minor payment. With the fears...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 9

Rowan and his party were indeed having nearly all of the trouble that they could handle. And their epic journey down-river was one that the gléaman could and did tell countless times in the years afterwards. They were making very fast time going back down the river, paddling hard with their oars along with the current to make even greater speed than The Lady Ellyn had made going upriver with sail. They thought that they could reach the island before dawn, under cover of darkness and perhaps...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 11

Despite their lack of proper rest, they started off again right at the very first crack of light and made a decent amount of relatively swift progress on the dryer grassy ground before the skies fully unloaded upon them. The rain soon got so hard that they could barely see ten yards in the woods ahead of them, so they risked a more dangerous but open path across several meadows to speed their course. Driven slightly south, to avoid a large hill that Gwenda feared had an Eorfleode watchpost...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 12

The sight of the destruction of Elmcrygh brought great misery and many tears to the poor survivors of Silana, who had hoped to find shelter and perhaps a new home behind the walls of the great walled town. In size, the now burning ruins were once nearly large enough to be considered a city, and it formerly sheltering tens of thousands of people and was the major hub of trade for nearly a hundred leagues around. Even at the height of their collective despair, Rowan refused to believe that the...

1 year ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 13

Gwenda was a tall and strikingly beautiful young woman, even dressed up in the plain leathers of a guards-woman. Even this, Lady Ayleth had to grudgingly admit. She was also quite smart and had grown up in a northern barony that was always on the pointed edge of danger, even in more relatively peaceful days. Her sharp green eyes missed little and her generously wide red lips stayed tightly shut when they needed to be, all the better to hear and listen, and react, to what was happening around...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 18

"You've darned near had your darned fool skull split wide open! So remain still and rest your eyes. You'll probably be seeing stars for awhile yet and you'll be dizzy for a few days." Ashburn gently advised her, when she had awoken in pain and darkness later. The healer's voice was trying to sound stern, but Gwenda could hear the smile in his voice even though her eyes were still shut lying in bed. Her head still hurt with a near constant throbbing, even now apparently several days...

1 year ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 19

If Boyle had been amused by the Lady Ayleth's modesty back at the hot tub in Dragontooth, her reaction to the casual partial nudity that was common in Corælyn, was even more entertaining. Even in the late autumn, the humid and warm winds from both sea coasts kept the temperature quite pleasant and the attire rather stimulatingly casual. For women, the presentation of mostly bare breasts, and their virtually always pierced nipples, was quite the art form. The Foole, quite sincerely, tried to...

3 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 20

Boyle, tried to project confidence that he didn't quite feel as he reviewed with Rowan and Oddtus for the last time what his arranged role was in the madness that was about to occur. Somehow, despite his growing nervousness, he kept his head held high and somehow a smile on his hard-edge but still round face. In the trials of the last seasons, the formerly stocky lad had replaced most, if not quite all of his flab with honest hard muscle. His eyes, like Rowan's and Gwenda's, were black...

3 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 21

Not quite a full hourglass from time Rowan and his companions set foot from off the ship onto Broadmore, on the docks of the walled City of Penryn, right at the mouth of the Penryn River in the Southern Gulf, they found themselves outside the great walled gates of the city facing three great armies, of which only one was their own. There, out of a great field outside of the walls of Broadmore's second greatest city, was the invading army of Drakland which stood ready for battle, holding it...

4 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 22

The ocean trip to the city of Tellismere was somewhat delayed by contrary winds, which at this winter season came near head on, from the northwest. The fleet was running close-hauled, tacking back and forth beating their way upwind. In better weather, the trip could have been made in less than a week, but instead they felt lucky that the trip had only taken two full weeks. From off-shore, the situation with tracking the progress of the Eorfleode horde remained simple. With their slow...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 23

"I don't care what you say, courage or not, that was still a damned stupid thing to do! What were you thinking? You weren't!" Boyle sadly muttered from Ayleth's deathbed, later that evening inside the small keep of Lacestone. "I sent the reserves to hold the left flank and they did!" She whispered, her face sheet white and pale with pain from her crippling and mortal injuries and extreme loss of blood. "The counter-attack swept their right flank and we merged with both the light and...

1 year ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 24

AFTERWARDS, TEN YEARS LATER Rowan and Boyle smiled as they sunned themselves after a brief swim and watched their wives and their children splash and play in the cool but refreshing waters of Lily Lake in Swanford. It was still early summer, and the shallow river waters had not yet warmed up very much, but they had been eager to leave Tellismere, and the requirements of duty, for a long summer of rest and relaxation. Swanford, still essential as a trade transit town between Crystal Lake and...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeChapter 25

AFTERWARDS, ANOTHER FORTY YEARS LATER Rowan held his beloved wife Gwenda extra tightly in bed, for she had been quite ill of late with a winter flux in her lungs that just would not depart, despite the treatments of the local medicus and the village wise-woman together. Even old Ashburn's best trained pupil, Doran, now the master medicus of Tellismere castle had taken ship to tend to her, but none of his remedies seem to offer her any improvement. In addition, her old skull wound suffered...

2 years ago
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A DaemonHorn BladeEpilogue

The Matron Urðra frowned as she completed weaving her first panel of the new tapestry for this age. 'Still too fucking dark!' She muttered, mostly to herself, as she looked towards the new Crone for advice. "Certain it is!" The Crone Veránda muttered, in rather annoyed concurrence. "The last panel of the old age that I weaved, before I took the shears, was bright and held forth some cheer. Now, with your first weavings the world is again dark and sinister. Where is that nice bright...

3 years ago
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Demon GateChapter 6 Locking Horns

Satou boiled with conflicting emotions. He was elated, his heart still racing after his encounter with Higa. He couldn’t keep his mind off her even for a moment as his family chatted around the table. Whenever he closed his eyes, all that he could see was her red skin and her white hair. He could still taste her lips, feel the smoothness of her body, like an afterimage that lingered in his mind. But at the same time, his gut was twisted with dread. Like a charging ox headed towards a cliff,...

4 years ago
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Thorn take charge of my life

I am finishing my chores when Thorn rises from the sofa:"Is the bathroom done yet?”“Yes, just finished.”“Good. I’m going to shower while you finish the kitchen and then you are to take me out dancing."That might sound good, but she knows I can’t dance and don’t even like it. Still, nothing to be done about that. I get on with my work as she gets ready. I see her flit from the bathroom to the bedroom and back again a couple of times. Obviously unable to decide what to wear, she passes in varied...

1 year ago
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Professor Thornton Chapter One

I stood in the doorway watching him. He was sitting in his office, feet on the desk drinking coffee and finishing the last of his bagel with hungry bites. It was a little past 7 in the morning, and the rest of the English building was quiet. The newspaper sat unread on his desk, he preferred to gaze out the window. I smiled to myself as I realized that he was busy watching the female students walking by. His eyes were out on stalks as an extremely attractive brunette strolled past the window...

Erotic
3 years ago
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Horney Aunt Day 3 Final

I woke up early in the morning. Then I saw my aunt sleeping next to me. I started to touch her tits softly. She came to me and hugged me tightly. She putted a leg over my legs. Her pussy met with my leg. I started to rub my against her pussy. I started to kiss her neck. Then she started to talk in a sleepy voice “making a woman Horney in the morning is not a good idea. You will get blue balls in the evening. Make me horney I will suck every drop of your cum until your balls get dry”. Actually I...

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